


That Stubborn Kindness

by Innocent_Inkpot



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Armitage Hux is Bad at Feelings, Engineer!Reader, F/M, First Love, Healing, POV Second Person, Rehabilitation, Slow Burn, Space Battles, Takes Place During and After Episode VIII
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2019-10-15 03:10:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 77,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17520893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innocent_Inkpot/pseuds/Innocent_Inkpot
Summary: Taken fresh off of your home planet, you have been unwillingly enlisted as the Director of Engineering on the First Order battlecruiser, the Finalizer. You accidentally get tangled up in the business of the infamous and cold-hearted General Hux, who seems to think of you as less than a proper officer due to your complete lack of military training. Perhaps there is far more to him than he lets on, and you might possess a keen enough eye and just the right amount of positivity to get through his iron facade. However, with all of the complications of the First Order hierarchy, opening up to you might just be the hardest challenge Hux has ever faced.





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time trying to tackle such a long-winded story, but here goes nothing! Also, this is my first story on the AO3 platform, so I hope this is a great first impression!
> 
> Special thanks to Bounteous for proofreading my work!

The humming of the First Order transport was unsettling, to say the least. You had always been used to the sounds of ships, considering you grew up in a bustling capital city, but nothing sounded so foreboding and _final_. Just a few hours ago, you had been on the streets of Hanna City, walking to the market near your apartment building for some groceries. There were rumors of a First Order ship that had landed in the city’s port, but you paid them no mind. Typically they only came for governmental intervention or trade, and there was no talk of potential invasion just yet. Then, however, you were suddenly being taken to the Senate to prepare for a new job as an engineer on the massive battleship called the Finalizer. Now, here you were, sitting in a cold shuttle and hurtling through space with hardly any information given to you about your current situation. You tried to remember everything that you had ever heard about the First Order, wondering if you were even prepared to live on the massive military ship.

The troopers and personnel around you were all wearing pristine uniforms, all similar to each other in their colors and styles. You, however, were still wearing that same pair of khakis and the sky blue button-up sweater that you had been wearing when you left your house that morning. You stuck out like a rancor in a room full of wookies, and you knew that everyone’s eyes were darting towards you at irregular intervals, glimpsing disapprovingly at the passenger that they had retrieved.

You stared out the window that you were sitting by, looking out into the vast array of stars that you could see. You had already jumped into and out of lightspeed, so you were close to your destination. That also meant that you were an unbelievably long distance from your home planet of Chandrila, and the engineering studio that you loved so dearly. You were forced to leave all your projects behind, not to mention your favorite drafting tools and tech. You weren’t sure if you would ever look out your office window again, which gave you a perfect view of downtown Hanna City. The view was always so breathtaking when the sun began to go down. Now, you would have to live without normal sunlight, and the air you would breathe would be nothing more than oxygen that had been imported from some far-off planet.

Your conscience told you to look for a silver lining, and eventually you realized that at least you would be continuing your passion for design. Most people who were taken from their home planets weren’t so lucky when it came to their positions. You, however, had been promoted instantly to Director of Engineering, a job that you had yet to figure out how you acquired. Surely there were others who were lined up for the spot? You shook those thoughts from your mind for now and simply waited as the ship began to slow.

“Approaching _Resurgent_ -class Star Destroyer: Finalizer,” said a mechanical voice from the intercom. You peered into the inky blackness of the void, and if you craned your neck you could see the beginnings of the humongous vessel. A few crew members began to carry out landing procedures, all silent and practically unblinking. You, however, were covered head to toe in goosebumps. Aside from the chilly temperature aboard the transport, you were filled to the bursting point with nervousness. A thousand thoughts raced through your head at once, and your gut twisted in a fit of sudden terror. You tried your best to ignore your fears regarding your new job and whether or not you would die out here, never having set foot on natural ground before your doom.

“Director.” A stormtrooper’s voice caused you to startle, and you whipped around to face him entirely. You were thankful that you could not see his face, because you weren’t sure what kind of reaction he would have to your skittish nature when literally everyone else was acting like they were merely taking the bus.

“I have been instructed to escort you to the proper exit area. You are supposed to leave the transport first, so please follow me,” he continued, turning and waiting for you to stand. Trying not to look too anxious, you got to your feet and steeled your expression. The soldier lead you down the aisle until you ended up in a separate room. A small warning under a line told you to remain behind it, so you stopped just short of it and remained still as you felt the ship begin to dip in altitude. The shuttle landed with a _thunk_ , and there wasn’t even a tremor as you touched down.

The door folded down soon after, and you had to remind yourself to wait until the top edge had hit the floor before you could step out into the hangar. The trooper stayed by your side as you exited, but you almost forgot he was there when you saw who awaited you. A stormtrooper with an entirely chromium set of armor and a dark cloak over their left side was standing there, blaster at their hip. It was clear that they were waiting for you.

“Director,” they greeted you in that same dry tone as the previous soldier. Her voice was a little less garbled by the helmet than the others, and in a strange way that put you at ease. “I am Captain Phasma of the FN Corps, and I have been tasked with accommodating you with the Finalizer. First, you will be shown to your quarters. Follow me.” Without another word, she spun around and began to move away from you, not bothering to check if you were actually obeying her.

 _She’s a captain, after all_ , you told yourself as you scurried to catch up. _She probably expects me to do whatever she says. Not that I_ wouldn’t _, but still._

Either Phasma’s legs were really long, or you were severely out of shape because it took you a solid twenty seconds before you could catch up to her. When you managed to get to her side, you had to double your normal pace to stay with her. Your escort was extremely intimidating, due to the fact that she was a hulking silver warrior who could kill you in an instant should the notion strike her. Luckily, she simply led you through the winding corridors without so much as a glance in your direction.

You tried to memorize the way you had come, just to get a feel for the ship’s interior. However, the hallways proved to form a gigantic labyrinth that might take you weeks to even begin to remember. You could only hope that there was a map somewhere that you could use.

Within minutes, Phasma stopped when she came to a sliding door. Once it opened for the two of you, you were awestruck by the massive array of living quarters. Everything was arranged in a circular formation, where the outer walls were filled with rooms. The empty middle housed several moving platforms that would carry passengers to specific levels. The captain led you towards one of those elevators, and once you were on you stared down into the column that seemed to span the entire height of the ship. The lowest levels held the smallest quarters, assumedly for positions such as stormtroopers and janitorial staff. The higher you went, the larger the space between the doors. You expected to stay fairly low in the column since you were not affiliated with the military ranks of the First Order, but then you were shockingly delivered fairly high up in the space. You were only two levels below the top tier, most likely reserved for the generals.

The platform started moving sideways, and you faced the direction you were headed. Once the metal gate opened, Phasma stepped off the elevator and directly forward to the chamber labeled 98-K. You followed suit, itching to see where you would be spending your off time from now on. The captain handed you a green card which had all of your personal information on it. At the bottom there was a portion that you could only suppose would unlock your door.

“I will return in 30 minutes so that you can be fitted for your uniform,” Phasma informed you. “I assume you can get comfortable on your own?” You stumbled to find words, realizing that she was finally asking you a question.

“Yes ma’am,” you finally managed to push out. With a click of her heel, the chromium-plated woman was already going back the way she came.

You took a deep breath and turned around, facing the foreboding grey walls. The only decoration — if you could call it that — on any of the walls in the giant cylindrical apartment complex were the numbers and letters outside each of the rooms. It seemed more like a jail cell exterior than a home. Nonetheless, you inserted your ID into the chip reader, and the door slid open. Your brows flew up when you saw your accommodations.

The living quarters you had been given were actually quite nice. You really began to ponder over what exactly being the Director of Engineering meant in terms of class. Your bed was situated along the back wall, and you could not resist the urge to run your hand along the dark grey sheets. They were soft to the touch, and your pillows were plush as well. The bed was large enough to fit two people, but it was nowhere near as large as your desk, which sat near the far left wall. It was gigantic, and fitted with all the latest engineering and drafting tech, complete with holographic design boards and pens that could write with light, suspending them in thin air until the machine was turned off. You let out a low whistle, thoroughly impressed. Along the other side of the room — a little closer to the front entrance — was a bookshelf filled with First Order-approved publications, a small collection of fictional novels (much to your surprise), and even some engineering textbooks. There was an armchair next to it, along with a light to read by. The back wall to the right of your bed sported a closet, and the open door revealed that you owned no clothing other than what you were currently wearing.

There wasn’t much that you could do while you waited for Phasma to return, so you sat down and leafed through a book on weaponry designs. Your grandfather had taught you all about the war business, and when you went off to university, designing blasters and ships had been your major. You eventually took another major in architectural engineering, and that became your true passion. Now, you had a gut feeling that you would have to throw out your favored aspect of design because of your new position. It would most likely be battlecruisers and lasers from now on.

Before you could think too much about it, however, there was a knock at your door. You immediately sprang up and opened it to reveal the captain who had brought you there, accompanied by a young man you had never seen before. You made a mental note that literally _everyone_ on this ship was unfamiliar to you, and because of that, you would have to start from scratch on friends.

“I will be waiting outside,” Phasma said to the stranger. He nodded and turned back to you. His golden brown skin looked flawless, and his deep sienna locks were perfectly tousled. This man looked like he had never seen a battlefield in his life. Either that, or he put so much work into his appearance that he could easily hide that fact.

“My name’s Hiram,” he finally spoke, outstretching his hand. You took hold of him and shook firmly, keeping eye contact as he smiled at you. “I’m the outfitter for the soldiers and staff of the New Order. Seeing as you’re our first female Director of Engineering, I need to take your measurements. Lucky you! You get a brand new uniform that’s never been worn by any other member of the First Order.” He was rather chipper, which set your mind at ease. Thank goodness that not everyone on this ship was all business.

Hiram quickly brought out his measuring tape and got down to work. He maneuvered your limbs as if you were a doll in his hands, and before you knew it he had gotten all the information you needed.

“This’ll be fun,” he mused, jotting down a few notes. “Alright, let’s get back out to Captain Buzzkill, shall we?” You chuckled with him as you exited your quarters, hoping that you would be able to see this guy again sometime. He was right up your alley in terms of friendliness and humor, much unlike literally everyone else on the Finalizer.

“She’s all yours, Captain,” the clothing designer grinned. “I’ll be back tonight with your uniform and some sleeping clothes. And hey, the staff and commanders eat at a different time than the soldiers, so I’ll see you for dinner. How’s that sound?”

“That sounds great!” you replied. You had no time to finish the conversation, yet again. Phasma was already calling the lift, so you dipped your head in farewell and joined her at the edge of the platform. You wanted to ask where you were going, but you knew that she would get you there no matter what, so it didn’t really matter. She brought you to the locker rooms which housed the bathrooms and showers, the cafeteria, the training grounds — though you would not have much use for them — where soldiers were practicing hand-to-hand combat, and finally, you were taken to the entrance to the bridge.

“Here you will find your chief overseer, General Hux,” Phasma went on. She had been acting like an audio tour at a museum while you traveled, and you were relieved that she was actually talking to you for once (truly she was talking _at_ you, but it was still a step in the right direction). “As soon as I introduce you to him, I am allowed to return to my duties. Do you think you can make it back to your quarters on your own?”

“Yes,” you said immediately, although you didn’t mean it in the slightest. You could barely get to the end of the hall without confusing yourself. A little resilient part of you tried to tell you that you could just ask for directions, but nobody on the Finalizer — other than maybe Hiram — seemed the direction-giving type.

“Good,” the captain nodded. She turned to the device on the side of the doorway and opened the sliding entrance. The sudden sounds of a heated argument reached your ears.

Two men, one who fit the typical general appearance and one armored to the teeth with a helmet befitting a warlord, were circling each other in the center of the bridge, shouting in each others' faces in a manner that seemed almost animal-like. You knew them immediately as General Hux and Kylo Ren, and your blood ran a little colder when you recognized such famous figures of the First Order. From the bits and pieces you could pick up amongst the squabbles, they were fighting over what course of action should be taken next against the rebels, now that they had blown up Starkiller Base. You vaguely remembered seeing that in a Chandrilan newspaper a few weeks ago, but you were fuzzy on the specifics of the ordeal.

“We have been bickering for two weeks now!” the redheaded man spat at his opponent. “The Supreme Leader has no more patience! We must decide what we’re going to do!”

“That’s what I’m _doing!_ ” said the mechanically garbled voice of the cloaked figure. “We should take action _now!_ Strike while the iron is hot!”

“Not when our main weapon has been destroyed!”

“Then we divide our forces and I take my troops to destroy the Resistance! _You_ can stay here and try to play it safe, but _nowhere_ is safe as long as Skywalker and _that girl_ are still out there!”

“Well, Skywalker would not be an issue if you had been capable of taking down _one measly girl!_ ” the general snapped. Suddenly, Kylo Ren reeled back in anger, snarling like an angry wampa. You gasped in fear when he suddenly whipped out a bright crimson lightsaber, although your escort seemed unphased by the scene before you. The red blade crackled with energy, and just before the Knight of Ren could swing it at something, Hux took a huge step back and spat, “ _Not in the bridge, you idiot! Take your temper tantrum somewhere else!_ ”

Ren roared like a beast and tore into a nearby panel before outstretching his arm. A technician on the side of the massive room suddenly rocketed out of her seat. The Force-user whipped his arm to the left, and the poor woman went flying with a cry for help. Then, the angered man whirled around and stormed out, dragging the tip of his saber through the metal floor below him. Phasma tugged you under her arm for a moment and out of harm’s way as he passed. You could hear him huffing like a bantha as he passed, and as he rampaged down the hall you could hear more people screaming and metal panels splitting.

The captain let you go, and you took a good look around the room. Workers were slowly crawling out of their hiding places and back to their seats, continuing on shakily but with purpose.

“General Hux,” Phasma suddenly piped up. The man flinched and turned his whole body to face you two. “The new Director of Engineering is here.” Hux’s gaze flickered over the both of you for just a beat longer than was necessary, then he straightened up and put on a mask of professionalism. Despite his best efforts to look unbothered by the previous argument, you could still see the furious twitching of his brow.

“So she is,” he nearly muttered. “I trust that you have been shown around the ship?”

“Yessir-”

“Then I’ll debrief you,” Hux continued as if you had never spoken. “Tomorrow morning at eight o’clock sharp, you are to be in the A-Wing Conference room to discuss your new tasks and meet with your new council. After that, you are to return to your chambers and get accustomed to your workspace. I’m sure you’ve seen it.”

“I have, sir-”

“Captain, you and our new Director are free to go.” The general spun around and walked to the front of the room, not looking back at you as he began to work again. You quickly realized that he had not met your eye, not even once, throughout your little exchange. It irked you, but you reminded yourself that he was a military man, not a Chandrilan trade boss. He did not need to schmooze with other executives, he was already ruling over them due to his place in the First Order. Still, it would be nice if he had actually let you speak.

Phasma nodded and stepped back outside, then you did the same. Noticing that there was a massive amount of damage to the hall on your left, you decided to follow the captain until you vaguely remembered that you were supposed to turn to get back to your room. With a somewhat confident outlook, you began your journey through the endless halls of the Finalizer.

  


◑ ━━━━━━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━━━━━━ ◐

  


It took three stormtroopers’ guidance before you made it to the cafeteria. Many of the higher-ranked personnel were already eating dinner, so you decided to get in line to receive your own rations. No matter the ranking, everybody received the same meal of Ash-rabbit soup. Anybody else from Hanna City would have griped about this, but after stumbling through the ship for about a half-hour with no real sense of direction you couldn’t care less.

“‘Ey, Miss Director!” called a familiar voice. You turned your head towards Hiram, making sure that he was looking at you and not some other director. He was beckoning you over to join his table. You obliged, happy that you didn’t have to sit alone on your first day like a high schooler. The few people around Hiram parted so that you could sit to his right.

“So, this is the new Director of Engineering?” said a gruff-voiced woman. Her heather grey hair was shaved on one side and long on the other, and you thought that had to be against some sort of dress code around here. She put her elbow up on the tabletop and leaned against her palm, smirking at you. “I’m Andromeda, but most people call me Andy.”

“She’s my personal assistant,” Hiram beamed beside you.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled at her. The others all gave you their names and positions too, many of them were squadron leaders who had just finished a day of training new troops.

“Say, Director, what academy didja come from?” Andy inquired as she lifted a spoonful of soup to her mouth. “Arkanis? Myomar?” You squirmed a little in your seat, reluctant to admit that you weren’t trained for the military at all.

“None, actually,” you replied, trying not to mumble. “I was brought here straight from Hanna City on Chandrila.” You waited for looks of confusion or disinterest, but those around you looked shocked, on the contrary.

“You’re pullin’ my leg!” Andy chuckled. “You mean to tell me that they just took you off planet to work on one of the biggest battleships in the galaxy _without proper training?_ You must be a pretty damn good engineer!” You nodded, smiling a little at the amused glimmer in her eye.

“Look at her, Andy,” Hiram laughed. “You think that a woman from an academy would be wearing blue and khakis? I don’t think so. What I don’t get is why they would bring you onboard when we’ve got plenty of staff already.”

“I think I might know,” said a nearby commander. This man with a scratchy baritone voice had introduced himself as Baron, and he radiated all sorts of manly energy from that scar that ran down his temple. “You said you’re from Chandrila?”

“That’s right,” you nodded. Baron leaned over the table, trying to get a better look at you.

“Well that makes sense then,” he said with resolve. “Chandrila’s been in hot water recently. Lotsa rebels come from that planet, apparently. There have also been rumors that their government sympathizes with the New Republic effort. We’ve been investigating them a lot nowadays, making sure they’re not supplying the enemy and all that jazz. I think this is a move to make sure they’re still loyal. They had to give up a civilian to work for us, and a respected member of society too. What exactly did you work on back home?” You made a quick list in your head, trying not to brag about your accomplishments.

“I designed the Polis District in the capital, and that became a big trade hub. I built Mon Mothma’s personal ship, and a family home on Arbooine. And I did all that renovation work on Landing Platform OB-99 a few years back,” you told him. “Those are my bigger projects. I also do the basic stuff like designing weapons, but that’s not my best work.”

“Oh, speaking of best work!” Hiram suddenly interjected. He pulled out a portable screen and started flipping through file names until he found what he was looking for. A hologram jumped to life, displaying a uniform that you assumed was yours. “I think I’ve outdone myself. Obviously, I had to use the basic design from the old Director’s uniform, but I added some great flame-resistant boots, and a pair of gloves that’ll go with them perfectly, and even a toolbelt that can hold everything you’ll need when you’re designing on the go. I’ll drop it by your room as soon as I’m finished eating.” He was grinning from ear to ear as he looked over his project, and you admired that spark of passion that he held.

“You really love your job, don’t you?” you grinned.

“I’m one of the only people who actually get to _create_ something on this ship. Who wouldn’t love it?” the designer smiled wide. “Maybe the same outfit or armor set over and over gets a little repetitive, but when I get to redesign old uniforms or make new ones I’m happier than a rancor in a village full of humans.” He set the screen on the table, leaving the hologram to continue slowly rotating.

“Hey guys, look who just showed up,” Andy whispered, pointing with her eyes towards the cafeteria’s entrance. General Hux was marching in, and the people in line to receive their dinner parted ways for him as he approached. “I heard General Ginger pissed off Lord Goth today. Now there’s wreckage from the bridge all the way down to the training room.” You winced, remembering the sight of that wrathful saber and how it cut through everything in its path with ease. Baron tutted the young woman and drank from his glass. You had no idea what he was drinking, but by the way he furrowed his brow when he sipped it, you didn’t want to know.

“One of these days that mouth of yours is gonna get you killed,” the older man scolded with a sad smile. “Hux does look pretty mad, though. Wonder what happened this time.” You stared at the general for a while, ready to turn away if he caught sight of you doing so. The kitchen staff was already holding out his food when he reached the window, and they had something else for him as well. It was a brown paper bag with nothing on it to describe what was inside. You turned to Hiram and quirked a brow, still training your eyes on Hux.

“What’s in the bag?” you asked him in a whisper, although you were certain that he couldn’t hear your lone voice above everyone else in the cafeteria.

“Nobody knows,” he shrugged. “Picks it up every day, though. Once at breakfast and once at dinner. Some people say he’s got a bearsloth chained up in his room, and that’s the food that he takes to it every day.” The people around you laughed quietly at that, but you were only paying a little bit of attention to them.

Your gaze was still locked on the man who had practically ignored you earlier as you tried to figure out what he could possibly need extra food for. Perhaps he really _did_ have a bearsloth or something like that. Maybe he was in charge of taking food to prisoners. No matter the reason, you were still focused on it for some odd reason. Suddenly, a captain walked up to him and began conversing with him. Hux placed the bag on a nearby table and he pulled a small screen from his pocket. The general scowled when he saw some sort of notification and shooed the captain out of the way. He quickened his pace and nearly jogged out of the cafeteria, still holding his uneaten — and most likely cold — soup. You noticed that he had forgotten that bag, and out of instinct, you stood, much to your newfound acquaintances’ surprise.

“Sorry, I’ll um… I’ll see you later Hiram,” you said over your shoulder as you started to leave. “I’ll see you guys at breakfast, right?” The group nodded and called their agreement, and you smiled back, thankful that you already had at least a few friends who weren’t completely boring military leaders. Nobody had even bothered to look at the bag, it seemed, because as soon as Hux left everyone resumed his or her place in line. You picked up the discarded sack and went after your superior.

Of course, it couldn’t be easy. You had waited just a tad too long, and he had already disappeared. Not knowing what else to do, you tried to make your way back to your quarters. By now you had a relative idea of where you were, but that didn’t stop you from making at least three wrong turns.

For a moment, you stopped to get your bearings at an intersection of hallways. You looked to your right and saw the beginnings of the locker rooms, so you knew that you were finally headed in the right direction. Someone accidentally bumped you, and after exchanging quick apologies you righted yourself again, including the bag which you were still holding. Curiosity got the best of you, and you peeked inside. There was a distilled water bottle and what looked to be a can of tuna.

 _What in the world could he need that for?_ you asked yourself as you continued walking. Eventually, you made your way into the chamber of living quarters, and you approached a man who had a rank insignia with 'Dillon' in Aurebesh on it. You hoped that he was of high enough rank that he knew Hux’s room number.

“Excuse me,” you said as you drew near. His eyes drifted over your casual attire just once before he answered.

“May I help you?” he asked in a confused manner.

“I’m looking for General Hux’s quarters. He left this behind in the cafeteria.” You held up the paper bag, and he looked at it with suspicion.

“Who are you?” he inquired, now staring you down.

“I’m the new Director of Engineering,” you informed him. “I don’t know where anything is on this ship. Heck, I don’t even have my uniform yet.” You addressed your unnatural outfit by tugging on your sweater’s collar, indicating that even though you weren’t dressed for the part, you still carried a title of a director. The man slowly turned around and pointed up to the very top level.

“He’s on floor 100 of the living quarters. You know which one’s his because Kylo Ren tore a hole through it last week,” he murmured before carrying on his way. You grinned sheepishly, uttering a quick, “thank you” before moving towards the elevator. You typed in the correct location and waited as you ascended, taking in just how large the top level’s rooms were. Once you were able to step out onto your desired floor, you immediately noticed which room you were looking for. The bottom part of the door was scorched, with a sizeable gap near the center.

“General Hux?” you called out. He would have heard you easily, but he apparently wasn’t there at the time. Unsure of what to do next, you looked around for a solution. Perhaps someone else could take it and give it to him, or maybe you should just hold onto it until morning, or maybe you should just wait until he came back.

A sudden sharp caterwaul interrupted your thoughts, and you jumped away from the entrance.

 _My god, he_ does _have a bearsloth in there!_ you fretted. Thinking quickly, you set the bag down in front of the door and bolted towards the moving platform again.


	2. An Unexpected Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for so much support for my first chapter! I'll be continuing this piece, and so far I have fifteen chapters planned out in total, but that isn't where I'm going to put the end of this story. It's probably going to be somewhere around twice as long but don't quote me on that. In any case, enjoy the second chapter!

Three hours had passed since Hiram brought you your uniform. Along with the one you were currently wearing, he had given you thirteen copies, which were now hanging in your closet. You turned your head to face the clock on your bedside table, which read 11:37. You groaned and set down the giant textbook you were reading.

In an attempt to try to ease your nerves and hopefully sleep, you had practically run a refresher course on everything that had to do with weaponry design. Sadly, your anxiety about the coming days was not the only thing keeping you up. For years you had been plagued with insomnia, but normally it could be ignored with the help of cutting-edge medication. However, when you were shipped off Chandrila you had been forced to leave your pills behind.

After reading through thirteen chapters of unending garbage, you were officially bored out of your skull. You scanned the room for something to do, and your eyes landed on your desk. You had been supplied with a sketchbook and pencil, even though most of your work would be done on computers and screens, and your mind was itching with ideas. Finally supplied with a more creative outlet for all your nervous energy, you hopped up from your chair and put the book back in its place on the shelf.

During dinner, you had heard of a lounge that was reserved for higher-ranking staff members and commanders, so you tried your best to remember the route. Pencil and pad in hand, you started on your journey. You used your key to open and close your door, then you were on your way. At this hour, most of the people who weren’t on the night shift were sleeping, so you tried to keep your steps light as you walked to the landing for the elevator. The machine was thankfully rather quiet and carried you to the floor you needed. Most of the actual rooms that did not directly contribute to war planning or training, like the cafeteria and the locker rooms, were kept on the fiftieth level.

A few guards making their nightly rounds passed you, not even casting a glance. You carried on with intent, trying not to look like a complete fool as you timidly searched for your location. A small group of stormtroopers parted as they passed, and you felt a slight boost in confidence from the way they respectfully made way for you. You didn’t let it get to your head, however, since you were still terribly lost and wandering the halls late at night like a child.

Finally, you could see the room’s sign on the wall, and you made a beeline for the door. Your keycard let you access the comfortably decorated room, and you sighed happily as you caught sight of the large window that formed the back wall of the space. Although most of the room was just as lifeless and grey as the rest of the Finalizer, you still found solace in one of the sleek yet plush chairs next to the glass. Your chamber, while more than accommodating, was still rather stuffy, and you felt more at home in an open space when you needed to let your artistic side out.

In a way, this window felt a little like home. In your studio back in Hanna City, you would always just sit by the wall of windows and take in the bustling sights below when you needed a break from your work. Chandrila’s streets were not outside this set of glass, but you were delighted to look at a spectacular amethyst-colored nebula in the distance. It glittered like the surface of Manaan, giving you a wave of inspiration. You took out your pencil and began to sketch the beautiful crystal caves north of your hometown, remembering your favorite spot that you often visited with your friends. It was hard to properly shade the scene in the dark lighting, so you did little rough scribbles until you were satisfied with the stylized landscape you had created.

You flipped the page and drew a Kiros Bird, focusing on the little details of the feathering. You smiled, remembering just how much you had begged for one as a little girl. They were absolutely adorable, and you’d fallen in love with their bright feathers. In hindsight, a bird was too much responsibility for a seven-year-old. Once you finished that quick drawing, you were flooded with an emotion that you could not quite put a name on. You remembered your mother back home, who would now be all alone without you, and your friends who would miss you terribly. Chandrila’s gorgeous scenery caused your heart to ache.

_That’s it_ , you thought, finally realizing what you were feeling. _I’m homesick._ You told yourself to get it together, seeing as this was your home now. Besides, the Resistance could only hold out for so long, right? You’d be back in Hanna City before you knew it.

You were sketching the skyline of the capital before long. Your line arched into the opera house’s dome, then into the roof of the Senate building. Plaza after plaza formed from your pencil, and soon you were adding the windows, the artistic paneling that the city was famous for. Terraces where people gathered were filled with civilians. The shining academies and trade centers, the markets, the skyways, and so much more. They were all there.

_Shhhhwip._ The door suddenly opened behind you, scaring you out of your daze. You turned around to see who was there and were surprised to see a very disgruntled General Hux. What was even more surprising to see was the glass of some sort of alcohol — probably scotch — in his hand. You felt pressed to alert him to your presence, so you cleared your throat and said, “Good evening, General.” Now he was the one who was startled, and some of the amber liquid nearly sloshed out of its container. He soon righted himself again and steeled his expression.

“Director,” he greeted you.

“You know who I am?” you asked, shifting in your spot. Hux looked bewildered by your question.

“Of course I do. You were just introduced to me a few hours ago,” he stated plainly, slowly approaching the window.

“I just thought that with all these people on this ship, you wouldn’t remember a newbie like me,” you replied casually. The general took a seat but left a chair between the two of you. He was eyeing you like yesterday’s leftovers, and you began to wonder what you said wrong. Perhaps it was your laid-back tone that bothered him.

“You’re in a very high position, Director. I know all of my chiefs of staff. You’re no different.” The man took a sip of his drink and looked out the window. “Besides, the clothing you had on when I met you was garish enough to leave a memory.” You began to fidget with your writing utensil out of habit, worried that your outfit from earlier had left the wrong impression, although it wasn’t your fault that you looked that way.

“Uh… Yes sir,” you mumbled nervously. You pivoted to directly face the window, sketching once more. Apart from the occasional sounds of ice against glass and pencil against paper, there was a painfully long period of silence. You thought of Kylo Ren and his earlier tirade, drawing a wampa in the same position he had been in earlier when his saber was raised.

“What are you doing over there?” Hux finally broke the tension. In response, you sheepishly turned the sketchbook so that he could see it.

“I’ve just been drawing,” you told him with a wry smile. “Getting ready to start sketching plans tomorrow, I guess.” The general snatched the pad without asking, setting down his beverage for a moment and flipping through the few things you had done so far. His eyes lingered over each new drawing, and he appeared to be scrutinizing each minute feature. Once he reached the final picture, he returned the book to you.

“Impressive,” he said in a low, almost genuine tone. Your head whipped around on its own, and you knew you had gone bug-eyed. You hadn’t expected him to pay you a compliment, he didn’t seem like the type who would.

“Really, sir?” you gaped. Hux took another drink, looking out into space instead of you while he talked.

“Indeed. Though, I must ask… Why draw a wampa, of all things?” he inquired. You debated over whether or not to tell him about the influence behind the rough sketch. You couldn’t bear another lengthy pause, so you drummed up a reply.

“A certain temper tantrum gave me the idea for it,” you answered him, waving your pencil around like a lightsaber. You could have sworn that Hux’s lips curled into a smile for a brief moment. He took another drink and looked out into the stars. After yet another long break in the conversation, you decided to break the silence.

“How come Kylo didn’t throw _you_ across the room?” you inquired shakily. That clearly threw him for a loop, he turned around and furrowed his brows in total shock. You scolded yourself, biting your tongue and trying to maintain eye contact to diffuse some of the uneasiness between you.

“He is your superior,” Hux said with a leer. You noticed that his voice had gone accusatory with that statement.

“Yeah?” Your confusion was quickly mounting. Sure, he seemed cold before but that icy glare put him in a new ballpark.

“You are in no position to question his actions,” the redhead spat. You sucked in air through your teeth at the realization. Now you had a rank, and you were really not supposed to even be talking so casually to your boss, much less be _gossiping_ with him.

“Right,” you mumbled, a little downtrodden. You turned away and tried to continue your sketch of the wampa, but now it seemed wrong because of whom you had modeled the beast after. Hux averted his gaze entirely, but you couldn’t help sneaking glances out of the corner of your eye, trying to see if you had truly upset him or not.

“It’s because he knows that Snoke would have his head if he killed me. Kylo cannot control an army or run this ship on his own. Without me, his forces would crumble.” The general’s sudden response intrigued you, and you had to resist the urge to sigh with relief.

“Does that happen a lot?” you inquired. Hux shrugged and picked up his drink once more.

“The arguing? At least twice a week at this point.” He took a long-drawn drink after that, grimacing from the onslaught of the acquired taste.

“Is that what the alcohol’s for?” you joked, attempting to remain jovial. Hux’s nose wrinkled a little bit, but he finally turned and met your eye. His irises were a brilliant shade of green, like the special mint candies that your mother used to make around the holidays.

“I suppose. I might as well indulge myself if I cannot sleep,” he remarked, tipping the glass back towards his lips. You nodded, setting down your paper and pencil. Hux quirked a brow and swirled his liquor for a moment in thought.

“Why are you up at such an hour, especially on your first day?” he inquired. You shrugged and ran a hand through your hair.

“Insomnia, plus I’m a little nervous. I usually have pills to help me sleep, but they’re back on Chandrila.” Hux paused once more, now studying you intently. He faced the nebula for a few seconds, then turned back to you. There was a sudden softness to his features that really caught you off guard, like he had suddenly lost his edge completely.

“I’m sure we have some medication on this ship for that purpose.” As odd as it sounded, it seemed that he was giving you advice, so you nodded gratefully. You tried to remember where the medical ward was and found that Phasma had not familiarized you with that area, most likely assuming that your job title would keep you out of harm’s way.

_Maybe I’ll look for the med ward after dinner tomorrow_ , you wondered. The thought of dinner reminded you of something, and you perked up when you remembered what you needed to talk to him about earlier.

“Did you find the bag that I left outside your door?” you asked him, thinking of that bag full of tuna and water. His expression remained slightly curious, as if he was somewhat doubtful of your intentions.

“That was you?”

“Yeah, you left it in the cafeteria. I tried to give it to you personally, but you were already gone, so I took it to your room.” Another thought crossed your mind: the noises that you heard when you approached his door. “Speaking of which, I’ve heard rumors that you keep a bearsloth in your room or something like that.” Hux almost laughed. Almost.

“Where did you hear that?” he queried.

“Oh, from a few people at dinner,” you explained, not wanting to throw anyone under the bus. “I thought they were joking, but then I heard something in your quarters. Y’know, ‘cuz the door has those holes in it. I dunno what it was, but it sure wasn’t human. Do you keep something in there? Was that its food? I didn’t know they allowed animals on-”

The general suddenly set his drink down — now almost empty — and frowned at you with his arms folded. You were startled, to say the least.

“Why am I even talking to you?” he growled. “You ask far too many questions.”

“Sorry sir,” you croaked, hand on your heart. Hux stared you down, a look of what you could only call disappointment plastered on his face, then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I trust you will be able to get proper rest before the meeting tomorrow.” His tone was less angry and more commanding now.

“Yessir.” How could you say no?

“Good.” He grabbed his glass and began to leave. The general stopped just shy of the door, however.

“Have a good night, Director,” he almost sighed. His voice sounded… tired... like he hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in a while, and that was what caused his cranky attitude.

“You too, sir.” He marched down the hall, and you let out a big puff of air that you hadn’t realized you were holding in. The sudden shift in his mood frightened you. You chastised yourself for asking personal things about your supervisor, seeing as that was probably why all your pseudo-icebreaking had gone to waste. After all, the drink in his system was most likely the only reason he was even talking to you in the first place. He did not seem like a man who enjoyed casual conversations. In fact, he had probably wanted to come to the lounge for a moment of privacy and solace, and of course, you just _had_ _to be there_.

You snuck a look at your sketch of the wampa, with lines that were angry and slightly abstract instead of neat. After a moment of consideration, you snatched the drawing pad, tore out the picture, and walked out as well, throwing it away as you passed by a trash chute.

 

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You only got a little bit of sleep, around two hours or so at best. Most of that was spent thinking about Hux and what he had said to you, anyway. His words had struck you, mostly because you were starting to realize that he expected you to be just like any other person on his staff: collected, quiet, and obedient. You had never really been any of those, outside of professional meetings in Hanna City, as you had never needed to answer to anyone before. Even your most surly business partners enjoyed pleasant conversations with you outside of the workspace, however. The Finalizer was certainly going to take some getting used to.

You checked the clock for the fiftieth time that night. It was 6:35 in the morning.

_People start to get up at this time, right?_ you wondered, trying to remember the schedule that Phasma had told you. You knew that breakfast started at eight, so you might as well start your day while you still felt at least a tiny bit refreshed. You pushed the covers off and sat up, blinking away the sleep in your eyes. You fumbled around for the lamp beside your bed and winced when the lights shone brightly.

It did not take you too long to get into your uniform. The pants and top went on easily, then you were able to accessorize with your belt, boots, gloves, and your cap. Everything was, admittedly, drab for your taste, but it would suit you just fine considering the temperature aboard the ship wasn’t exactly cozy. With everything on, you started to make your way out the door. This could be a good time to familiarize yourself with the ship on your own, or maybe even search for the medical wing.

_Mrrow._ A noise outside your chamber stopped you in your tracks.

_What was that?_ you asked yourself. You tentatively reached up and put your key in the locking mechanism, and when the door slid open to reveal nobody standing there, you became confused. Something brushed against your leg, and you flinched, looking down immediately. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw who your early-bird visitor was. An orange tabby cat was mewling at your feet, as if trying to urge you to do something. You bent down and let them sniff your hand, cooing like an excited child.

“Where did you come from?” you inquired, astonished that such an adorable, fluffy creature was on this massive warship. Obviously, the cat could not answer you, so you searched for the collar on their scruff. You found it, and the little bauble on the front of their neck, but saw no name.

_This must be a tracker,_ you thought, examining the orb. There was a crack that ran all the way down its smooth plastic surface. _But why would they have a tracker and no name tag?_

The cat continued to meow and beg for your attention. You gave them plenty of petting and scratches, but that only seemed to help a little bit. They kept whining, which prompted you to think that they might need food. Perhaps they were used for experimentation and had escaped some sort of lab aboard the ship. The poor thing must have been starving.

“Are you hungry?” you asked in a soft voice. “You need something to eat?” You didn’t know if there were any cat-friendly meals during breakfast hours, but you did know that Hux had been picking up the same bag every morning and night. If your memory served you right, there was tuna in that bag. If you asked the kitchen staff for the same thing, they would surely give it to you, wouldn’t they?

“Okay, I’ll go get you something,” you assured them, scooping them up and setting them on your side of the bed. Their mewls died down as they curled up in what was left of your warmth, and you sighed with a drawn out, “Aww.” You turned and left your room, quickly closing the door behind you just in case the cat began to wander once more. As you walked through the halls, you tried to figure out who you could tell about the animal that you had found. Hopefully, nobody would hurt the cute little thing.

You quickly maneuvered your way to the elevator and through the halls, motivated by your newfound buddy’s irresistible pleas. In fact, the only mistake you made was a wrong turn about one hallway down from the cafeteria, which was easily corrected by taking a left just a little bit later. By sheer luck, you stumbled upon some kitchen staff who were on their way into the mess hall.

“Excuse me,” you called out to them, waving as you approached. They all stopped in their tracks, dead silent. “I’m sorry, I know it’s early, but do you think that I could get a bag just like the ones you give to General Hux every day? Y’know, with the tuna and water? Oh! And two bowls, please.” The cooks stared at each other in disbelief, and you hoped that your request wasn’t too outlandish. Then, a rapid succession of “of course” and “right away” rose up among the group, and you smiled happily. They led you inside and had you wait in front of the window where you picked up your food yesterday, and it only took a moment before they reappeared with an identical paper bag and two plastic bowls.

“Thank you so much,” you beamed at the woman who handed you the items. She gave you a shocked grin in return, muttering, “Of course, ma’am.”

_What, is_ gratitude _not common on this ship either?_ you wondered, almost rolling your eyes. You sped out of the cafeteria and back down the hall, narrowly avoiding a collision with a small bunch of troopers. You had to wait a little while for the elevator, as people were beginning to mill about. Soldiers and guards were making their way to the training hall, commanders were grabbing their morning coffee, and technicians were making their way to areas that needed repair. People took notice of your insignia and let you move to the front of the line. When the platform drifted lazily down, you hopped on quickly and thanked the people who let you go first. Your thoughts drifted to the cat once more while you got closer to their destination.

_Maybe I could keep them,_ you wondered. _I’m sure that I could keep them a secret if I really wanted to. It’d sure help with the gloomy atmosphere._ The elevator slowed to a halt, and you dashed off, almost knocking shoulders with an important-looking man who was headed for the same floor as you. With your free hand, you fumbled for your keycard, nearly giggling as the door opened and revealed the lounging feline.

The creature saw the bag in your hand and immediately perked up. You closed the door behind you and stepped towards them before setting the bowls down on the floor. The can of fish had a pull tab on it, so it was easy to open. As soon as the scent of tuna rose into the air, the cat jumped down and waited patiently in front of you, tail flicking at the very tip.

“Here you go,” you said, letting the meal slide into one of the containers. The feline bent down and quickly ate what you had given them. Seeing that they were satiated, you retrieved the water bottle as well and poured some of the liquid into the other bowl. You simply sat there, fascinated by the adorable animal that you had become acquainted with. Their little tail swished quickly from side to side, and when you reached out to pet them, you were pleased to feel the rumbling of their purr.

“Oh look at you,” you gushed, rubbing that rumored special spot behind their ears. “You’re so cute.” The creature seemed to enjoy the praise, because they pushed their head into your palm. You had never seen a cat before, but you were relishing in the presence of this sweet little critter. You felt them crane their neck until they could lick your hand, and your heart melted.

_Who would ever experiment on such a cutie?_ you asked yourself, throwing your previous theory out the window. The collar itself would be pointless if they were to be tested on, after all. They had to belong to someone, but who?

You looked at the clock again. Time sure had flown, and apparently it took much longer to get to the cafeteria than you thought, as the whole round trip had taken nearly thirty minutes. With a sigh, you patted your new friend and stood, walking over to your desk. The cat continued to eat and drink while you grabbed your designated datapad, but then they tried to follow you as you made your way out the door.

“Sorry,” you muttered, placing them back on your bed as you had before. “I need to go. I’ll be back in a little while, okay? Then I’ll find out who you belong to.” With a little wave, you exited your living quarters and made your way down for breakfast.

 

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You had never expected to see General Hux so unraveled. From what you had seen of him, he hardly ever let his steady demeanor falter. In fact, everyone around the Finalizer talked about how rigid and attentive he was. Now, he looked far more tired than yesterday, even when he was drinking so late in the evening. His hair was slightly ruffled, which led you to suspect that he hadn’t put any product in it, and there were noticeable dark circles under his eyes. You looked around, and the other people who were there with you — presumably your new team — were also taking notice of his odd state.

“Introductions are in order,” Hux began, sweeping an arm across the room. “Director, these are Officers Janae, Ipsum, and Donaldson.” The three rose as he said their names, and you stood up to shake their hands. Hux grabbed the mug that he had brought in with him and took a long sip of coffee before continuing.

“Now that that’s out of the way, I have your new project information ready for you-” The general cut himself off with a yawn as he turned on a holoscreen in the center of the table. “-to go over. Here, you see the previously war-torn planet known as Jakku. We have been able to trace the Force-sensitive girl that struck down… Her involvement in the destruction of Starkiller Base has interested our Supreme Leader. He has decided that the abandoned Imperial base on that planet must be rebuilt and repurposed, and that all research and weaponry facilities will also be rebuilt to suit the First Order’s needs. Alongside these, he wants a personal base to be established in junction with these buildings. I have sent you all schematics of the previous bases, and I expect new plans drawn up within two weeks. Further instructions will be given once I am given the blueprints. Dismissed.” The officers immediately stood, but you remained seated, confused as to why they were leaving so suddenly. Was he not going to specify what materials were needed? What about which rooms the Supreme Leader wanted in his personal section? He didn’t even go over the necessary plumbing, air conditioning, or electrical plans. You had never in your career been given such vague orders, so naturally, you wanted to clear some things up. The other three team members left without a word, and as the door slid shut behind them, the general gave you an impatient look.

“Is there something you need, Director?” he asked. His eyes kept shifting towards the door, and you knew that he had places to be. Hoping not to keep him for too long, you stood and approached him warily.

“Sir, I just was wondering if there was anything more… _specific_ about this project that I could look at? For instance, do you have the full material list for the last base? That would be very helpful-” You stopped, noticing that the whole time you were speaking, Hux was shuffling in the direction of the exit. “Are you alright?” Those piercing eyes locked onto yours, as if daring you to question him again, then they softened just a tad. He leaned in close to your ear, and you could smell the coffee on his breath.

“Your quarters are on floor ninety-eight, yes?” he inquired, whispering as if he was sharing a big secret. You nodded slowly, a little uncomfortable with the sudden close proximity you two shared. “You didn’t happen to see an orange cat walking around, did you?” You gasped involuntarily as the dots suddenly connected in your mind.

“So _that’s_ why you had a bag of tuna!” you nearly exclaimed, backing up from him with wide eyes. “That’s _your_ cat, isn’t it-”

“Keep it down!” Hux snapped. You slammed your mouth shut, leaning backward as the general moved threateningly towards you. “Yes, that is my cat. She must have escaped through that blasted hole when I went out for an early debriefing. Ever since Kylo destroyed my door with his _kriffing lightsaber-_ ” He drew back, pulling a heaving breath into his body in order to calm down. Your eyes went wide, jaw nearly dropping at his use of a swear. It seemed very unfitting for a man of such high status.

“I forgot that she would be able to get out if I didn’t block it with something,” he continued, now back to his professional self. “I’ve been looking for her all morning. Do you know where she went?” You nodded immediately, happy that you had finally found the owner of the feline. You were glad to know that he had a soft side behind that brutish ruse.

“I do. I heard her meowing outside my door and I brought her in. I was going to ask around to see who her owner was as soon as this meeting was over,” you informed him. The visible solace that swept through Hux’s form was astounding. His features seemed much brighter, his eyes did not shift any longer, and there was a noticeable release of tension in his shoulders and jaw. “She was really hungry, so I brought her some breakfast. Maybe she went after you to try and get some food.” The general nodded, brows drawn in thought.

“Most likely,” he agreed. He stood tall and met your gaze with a neutral look about him, all business once more. “I’ll retrieve her now. Thank you for your help, Director.” You watched him leave for a moment, then realized that he would need your keycard to get in.

“Hold on! I’ll go with you!” you called after him, scrambling to catch up. “You’ll need this.” You held up your card when you met him at his side. He shook his head and continued on, hands clasped behind his back.

“I am granted access to all rooms within this ship,” he mumbled. You didn’t hear any protests to your company, so you kept up with him. Besides, you wanted to say one last goodbye to your visitor.

Normally the silence would have killed you, but there was an unspoken ease between you two now. It was like he wasn’t your boss at all, more like the beginnings of a friendship. You weren’t sure if he felt the same — or if he could feel any emotion towards anyone at all, for that matter — but you were content for the time being. The trip did not take too long, and you could tell that the commander was itching to get to his pet by his subtle facial expression and body language. He was a great actor, but you were the observant type, a trait you had acquired over years of being an engineer.

The two of you stepped off the platform and approached your room’s entrance. You pushed your keycard in the slot and waited for the door to open, listening to the gliding of metal as a signal to enter. Hux did not wait for your permission, but rather barged in and scooped up the fuzzy creature from her place on the floor.

“Millicent, thank goodness you’re alright,” he sighed into her fur, consolation filling his voice. You couldn’t help but crack a smile at the normally stoic general. He caught sight of you, however, and simply stood with perfect posture once more, face showing no signs of his previous happiness. “Director, I must request that you meet me for dinner in the cafeteria. There are matters we must discuss.”

“About what, sir?” you asked. His trademark confused glare hit you once more, and you felt a little ignorant for not knowing what he meant.

“You asked about specifics before we left,” he reminded you, casually petting Millicent. “I assume that you had a certain way of doing work back home?” You gave him a quick nod, and he went on.

“As do I. After this… favor, I believe that this is the least I can do to repay my debt. You see, due to health regulations Millicent isn’t… It doesn’t matter. I’ll give you whatever information you deem necessary.” He began to leave, looking straight ahead as he continued talking. “For now, I have work to attend to. I will be in the cafeteria at seven o’clock sharp.” Without another word, he was out the door. You didn’t even say goodbye, only standing amazed as he left you in your quarters.

_Was that his version of being nice?_ you pondered.


	3. Orders Are Orders...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thanks for all the support, guys! Hope you like this new chapter!!

It was clear that Hux was not simply planning on a simple meeting over dinner, based on the two large, clear, plastic cups that he held in his hands. People were staring at him, probably wondering why he was standing in the center of the cafeteria instead of working in some remote corner of the Finalizer. You entered the hall with a slightly shy attitude. Having so much attention on the two of you was certainly off-putting, especially since you were so new to the First Order military in the first place.

“Hey, Director!” Andy’s voice suddenly cut through the air. She was waving you over to Hiram and the rest of the group from the previous day. The general cleared his throat and thrust one of the cups in your direction, however, and the designer’s assistant instantly sat back down. You mouthed an apology before you turned to your superior.

“Walk with me,” commanded Hux. You made sure to immediately fall into step beside him so that you didn’t lag behind like last time. “Dinner will have to be on the go. I have work to do. For now, let me give you this.” He pulled something out of his pocket and opened his gloved hand to reveal a small memory chip.

“It’s everything you could ever want to know about Jakku’s previous base. Every scrap of information in our database about those structures has been stockpiled in this chip, so I suggest you don’t lose it,” he went on. You took the item and placed it in a pocket of your own, sipping what you recognized as chicken noodle soup from the cup.

“Thank you, sir.” You wondered if you were supposed to leave him or not, now that you had gotten what you had come for. “If that’s all, I can go if you want.” Hux let out a ‘tsk’ and furrowed his brow.

“Hardly. I haven’t repaid my debt yet,” he said flatly. You rounded a corner, confused as to what he meant by that. He must have seen your expression, because he began to talk again.

“I will be typing up my newest message to the troops in the field, but I will also be relaying very important information to you regarding your position,” he clarified. “You will listen intently and you _will not_ interrupt. Am I understood?”

“Yessir,” you answered reflexively, taking another sip to silence yourself just in case he had more to say.

“Good. My office is just down the hall from here.” He suddenly increased his pace, and you mirrored his movements in order to keep up. He produced a keycard from somewhere within his greatcoat — you couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t wear the sleeves — and slipped it in the locking device. A rapid succession of beeping occurred before the door slid open, and you entered with a cautious step. His office was as big as your room, and was lined wall to wall with old books. His black desk was covered in computer modules and holographic screens, and you wondered just how much work had to be done here to keep the First Oder in check. A globe was situated in the corner that displayed a planet you had never seen before, another hologram of course. On the back wall, there was a metallic symbol of the First Order that served as a decoration.

“Sit,” Hux ordered, gesturing to a nearby chair. You obeyed, taking in the odd antiquity of the furniture. It was nowhere near as sleek and minimalistic as the rest of the ship, made of genuine black leather and everything. “Now, I am going to be blunt. You’re a nuisance.”

“ _What?_ Sir, I-”

“Hush,” he interrupted you before you could defend yourself. You stayed quiet, although now you were extremely uneasy. He pulled up a screen which displayed your face, along with a plethora of personal information beside it. “Here are your records, which were supplied to me when you joined our ranks. There’s plenty of interesting pieces here, but the most important of all is this…” He pointed to a list of known educational institutions you had been to.

“Elementary, secondary, university with honors and a masters in your field, but no military training. The people of Chandrila gave you to us because you are supposed to be the best of the best.” His tone was a little grizzly now, like he was accusing the Chandrilan government of something.

“Are you saying that I was the wrong choice?” you asked, rapidly losing positivity. Hux shook his head as he pulled up more screens at his desk, presumably the work he had to do.

“No, you are an extraordinary engineer. They gave us exactly what we wanted,” he assured you. “But make no mistake, nothing is free. The price of such an excellent designer was discipline. You don’t even know what your rank means, do you?” You had an idea, but decided not to voice it when he kept going.

“You speak out of turn, you stare, you have no clue how to navigate a ship, and I’m sure you couldn’t even operate a blaster in a fight.” It was like pointing out your shortcomings was fun for him at this point. You sunk lower in your seat, preparing yourself for more of his acidic tone. “If I had known that Chandrila would have sent someone as unprepared as you, I wouldn’t have chosen that planet. But now that you’re here I cannot just return you, it would bring up questions with the Supreme Leader and the Chandrilan government, considering that the New Republic sympathy is still being snuffed out on that planet. You have only been here a day and a half, and you have proven that you are incapable of learning proper military etiquette on your own-”

“Is this about the wampa drawing of Kylo-”

“ _Silence_ ,” Hux snapped. You felt icy fear crawling into your veins. What was he going to do with you? Would he throw you back to Chandrila, toss you out into space, or shoot you dead, here and now?

“You need someone to show you basic procedures. And maybe a better work ethic wouldn’t hurt. No matter what the government said, it is clear you are used to working on your own hours. That is no longer the case, here. However, you came at the most inconvenient possible time, what with our Starkiller Base being destroyed by the Resistance. There is no-one with a high enough position who can be your mentor at this time, so I have thought over your position. You’re being… _partially_ reassigned. You will still be working as our Director of Engineering, but you will also be my personal assistant for the time being. I’ve created the perfect schedule for you. Each day I will meet you at six o’clock in the C-Wing training hall so you can learn about weaponry and basic hand-to-hand combat. At seven, you will be dismissed to the locker room, then you will have breakfast with everyone else at eight. Nine o’clock will change depending on whether or not I need to debrief your team or not. If not, you will come to my office and help me with errands around the Finalizer so that I may continue working. Lunch at twelve, back here at one so you can keep designing while also being on deck for me, then at six you will be released for dinner and whatever you wish afterward.”

You tried to wrap your head around what you had just been told. You were happy that he was looking out for you — hopefully that was a sign of friendship — but how much time was he leaving for you to actually get work done on the designs? Although a million questions were flying through your mind, there was one that you decided that you had to clear up.

“Sir, what kind of work will I be doing for you?” you inquired. Hux eyed you through one of the translucent screens, then plucked a flash drive from his desktop.

“For starters, these are the orders that Captain Phasma must carry out daily. I’ve already given her today’s instructions, but tomorrow I will have you deliver them to her. That is just one of the many duties I will have you perform,” he explained, placing the drive back in its spot. “Resistance codebreakers are getting smarter every day, and therefore we have had to downgrade all major military commands to flashes such as this one. Normally I have little to no time to rush these around the ship, especially with how busy I have been recently, but now you are here to take them.” You nodded, understanding that you were taking on the responsibilities of a page. The general remained silent for a while, sending some files to your datapad in between messages around the fleet.

“Rest up, Director,” Hux muttered, not quite looking in your direction. “You have a busy day tomorrow.”

“So do you, sir.” Once more, your mouth ran on its own. You reminded yourself of his note on speaking out of turn, and tried to think up a way to stop your gregarious tendencies. Nonetheless, the green-eyed man ceased his work for a moment and met your gaze, almost prompting you to say something else. “I just meant that… You’ll have to get up early for my training, won’t you? Don’t you want to go to bed early?” Hux let out a puff of air that vaguely resembled a chuckle, and the sound alone was enough to make you relax.

“Director, look around,” he replied, sweeping an arm to indicate his almost absurd amount of tech. “If I want to get to bed, I need to address all these notifications. So it would be best if-” A beeping sound erupted from one of the nearby panels, and Hux’s face lost a little color.

“Nevermind,” he whispered, rocketing to his feet and straightening his coat. “Good night, Director.” With that, he was speeding past you and into the hallway once more.

 _What is with him and leaving so suddenly?_ you wondered. Shaking your head, you stood up and made to leave as well. You pulled out your datapad and began sifting through the information about the old Jakku bases that you had been given, and were relieved to find that so many useful details were there. You thanked the stars that he had not called you there to be executed and that he was actually offering to help you. He certainly didn’t seem like the helping type in the first place, and to assist someone as new — and unbefitting — as you was astounding all on its own. With a healthy bounce in your step, you returned to your living quarters so that you could start working on those designs before you went to bed.

You were proud to find that your feet were guiding you exactly where you wanted, and you barely second-guessed yourself throughout the whole trip. As you entered the cylindrical chamber of rooms, you nodded at those who let you pass, and thanked the commander who kept the elevator’s gate open for you. You preemptively took out your keycard while you waited for those who lived a few floors under you to get off, then stepped onto your own level when you reached it. Upon reaching your door, you let your shoulders drop a little further than they were, knowing that you were finally relieved of your constant fear of being inadequate. You knew, deep down, that the general would not lead you astray. After all, he was already using up hours of possible sleep to help train you, so why would he do it if not to assist you?

Your eyes landed on a small, white container that was sitting on the front edge of your bed. Curious, you picked it up, not remembering ever putting it there. It rattled when you moved it, and you knew that there were pills inside. You read the label: Ramelteon Tablets.

 _Insomnia meds!_ you gasped in your mind. You smiled wide and bright, happy that Hux was looking out for you in more ways than just etiquette.

 

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When you were woken up by your alarm, there had been a message from the general waiting for you on your personal device. It said that there was a box outside your door that contained an outfit specifically made for basic training. You wouldn’t need it today because you were going to discuss blaster types, but in the future it would be necessary. After that, you warily navigated down to the C-Wing where Hux was waiting for you.

The training hall was already quite full, despite the fact that it was so early. Every trooper that was using the space made way for you as Hux led you to an adjacent room in the back.

“This is the C-Wing firing range,” the general said as the two of you approached the door. “I wanted to start you out with the bare bones of weaponry. You won’t be shooting anything today, but I figured you could at least find a gun that suits you.” 

“What kind of blaster do you use, sir?” you inquired, curiosity getting the better of you. He opened the door for you, allowing you to see the racks of blasters waiting before the range. Other than you and Hux, the room was empty. 

“It’s nothing more than a basic officer’s blaster,” he shrugged, pulling the firearm from inside his greatcoat. “But I think that even this may be too much for you. It has heavy recoil that takes far too long to master, and I doubt you’d ever be put on the battlefield anyway.” He stepped over to one of the metal shelves, set his coat and hat on it, then looked over the weapons until he found a blaster that he deemed worthy. With a satisfied nod, he plucked a firearm from its place on the rack. 

“A DC-15s pistol,” the general explained, holding out the small black gun to you. “These have been around ever since the early days of the Empire. Here’s why.” Without even a beat of hesitation, he pointed the barrel towards you. Out of an instinct to survive, you darted out of the way, but he was merely showing you that the energy cell was charged with a blue light now. 

“At close-range, it has the ability to stun,” he clarified, obviously amused by the fact that he had scared you. Hux then turned towards the range and took only a moment to aim before firing a shot. The laser hit the human-shaped target in the shoulder area near where the collarbone would be. The flat training dummy was encased in electricity for a mere moment, and you realized that it could have shocked the recipient with no problem at all. 

“Now you,” he suddenly ordered. You reeled back, surprised that he would hand you such a dangerous weapon without any thought. 

“Me?” you asked with bewilderment. 

“Take the blaster, Director. I just want to see how you handle the recoil.” He held the pistol out to you with an insistent look in his eye. Although timid, you knew that you had no place to argue. Operating a weapon was good knowledge for anyone to have, especially in these times. 

The blaster was light and compact, and it actually felt pretty natural in your hand. You could only hope that you could fire it as well as you could handle it. 

“When you aren’t pointing it at the enemy, keep your blaster aimed downwards. Even with our advancements, it could go off at any moment, and you wouldn’t want to be charged with an assassination attempt,” Hux instructed. “Right now, anyone could fire it, but if this is a good weapon for you, then it will only fire if your fingerprint is on the trigger. Mine is programmed similarly.” You nodded, happily retaining the information.

“Look at your target first, then follow your eye with your blaster until it lines up with the front sight. Try for the head,” he continued. You obeyed his instructions, aiming for the head of the dummy. “It is natural for your hand to point it towards where you want it to. Actual precision and accuracy training will come later, because no one's a perfect shot when they first start shooting. Now, as long as you know that it has enough shots left, you can pull the trigger.” You took a deep breath, then flexed your index finger. The laser erupted from the barrel and went screaming through the air, hitting the target near the center of its left rib cage. You were a little disappointed, knowing that what you were really aiming for was at least twelve inches higher, but you were satisfied with your first shot ever. The recoil was nothing to sneeze at, but it was at least tolerable. You were sure that it would start hurting if you had to repeatedly fire it, however.

“Very good,” Hux said as he pulled the pistol from your hand, which was still raised. “Did that feel overwhelming?” 

“Not at all, sir,” you replied. “Did it _look_ overwhelming?” 

“It _looks_ like you’ve found a good basic weapon,” he told you, making his way over to a panel on the wall. He pressed a few buttons on a nearby keypad, unlocking the small metal box to reveal a few programming chips. Hux took one of the smaller pieces and slid it into a port in the side of the blaster.

“Now hold it like you’re getting ready to fire.” You nodded and approached him, putting your hand on the grip and placing your fingers where you had put them before.

“Oh good lord,” Hux grumbled. “No wonder you were so far away from the head. Your blaster is completely out of proper position. Here’s your first lesson.” He gingerly took your fingers between his, one by one, until they were in their correct places along the grip.

“This is where your dominant hand is supposed to go when you’re shooting. But firing with one hand takes a very long time to learn. In battle, you won’t have time to steady your aim with only one arm like you just did. You will need to be quick and shoot first in order to stay alive. So for now...” He brought your other hand to hold the blaster on the opposite side. His gloved palm rested against your skin for a brief moment, and you wondered why your mind latched onto that detail for so long.

“...you will need to support your blaster with two hands, like this. The DC-15s is a sidearm, so this is the proper way to hold it. It will help with accuracy,” Hux finished, removing his hands. “Understand, Director?”

“Yessir,” you nodded, not daring to move your body at all as he pointed along the line of your arms.

“Here, you can see that the barrel is lined up with your forearm, and your non-dominant hand is at a forty-five-degree angle,” he went on. “If you can train your eye to follow the front sight, then you should be capable of surviving in a fight. Hold still.” The general quickly stepped over to the wall panel again, pressed a button, and the chip in your blaster beeped. He returned and took the device out, returning it to its place once more before locking the metallic cupboard.

“There. Now only you can fire it,” he said curtly. Hux looked over at a clock on the wall, then hummed in thought. “Do you have any questions? We have plenty of time before we need to leave.” You had _plenty_ of questions, not many of them really relating to weaponry. You couldn’t help it, you had always been a very inquisitive soul. For the time being, you went with the first thing that came to mind.

“How long did it take you to fire without looking?” you wondered. It was a trick that, admittedly, was very badass, and if you were going to adopt the military lifestyle than you at least wanted a little bit of flair like the movies back home. Hux lifted an eyebrow, giving you that same puzzled look that you had gained so many times before.

“I don’t see why it matters,” he replied, causing your heart to sink. A pause occurred, just like when you had been talking to him in the lounge and you had questioned Kylo Ren. Just like before, he answered out of the blue after you went silent. “Roughly two months of non-stop training.” You lit up again, and his eyes flickered with a sense of relief and curiosity. It was a faint trait that you had noticed: his expressions were discreet but very striking to someone who could see them.

“Director, you need to work on how much you show to others,” the general suddenly sighed. It was completely out of nowhere, and you didn’t know how to respond. “There it is. You look like I just said that a rathtar learned Aurebesh. I understand that it’s practically impossible to gain a soldier’s rigidity as quickly as I wish you could, but you won’t be trusted easily with how expressive you are.”

“What?” you blurted. “I don’t get it. You want me to just… be emotionless?”

“In a way, yes,” Hux nodded. He motioned to some adjacent stools which were lined up along the wall. The two of you sat down and prepared for a long talk. “This is your second lesson for the day: in the eyes of the officers, you are just another face in the First Order, just another cog in the system. Small talk and personal questions have no place on this ship, except for after hours and during meal periods. Even then, they’re not common. Your first night, when you and I shared the lounge for a while, I realized that I was only talking to you out of pity.”

 _And a little intoxication_ , you added in your mind.

“I understand that it must be difficult to suddenly have to shoulder all this responsibility and accept a new lifestyle,” your superior continued, tone becoming a little softer. It seemed alien, for him. “You’re lucky that I was the one who you were talking to. I’m the top rung of the ladder, so I don’t need to compete with you.” Your nose scrunched at that, noticing the humble bragging that he used. Confusion still filled your mind, and you had yet to piece together the meaning of anything he was saying.

“What I mean is…” he trailed off, obviously noticing your bafflement. You tried to hide it — as he had asked you to — by putting on a neutral face. “Order comes at the cost of servility. The higher a person pays, the better the chance that they will succeed. You are one of many officers that answer to me, and all of them will most certainly look at you as a challenge, now. A woman who has only been here for three whole days is suddenly the general’s personal assistant? That’s bound to raise questions and, by extension, jealousy. Captains have worked for years to get to their positions, and you have surpassed them without any proper military training.”

“Oh,” you mumbled. It made perfect sense. You knew that your behavior was odd compared to the others, but you never knew that you were in such a precarious position. “I get it.” For some unknown reason, you were saddened by this exposition. How could you just switch off everything that made you the person you were?

“Director, I don’t say this to antagonize your behavior. I just want you to be able to fit in smoothly, and I want you to stay safe. I won’t lie. Some officers have ‘disappeared’ because they have gotten in the way of others looking for a promotion. It’s obvious when this happens, and sometimes that cutthroat attitude is what gets them places, depending on what position they’re aiming for. Seems backwards, right?” You nodded, thankful that he seemed to get why this seemed so idiotic to you. Why would someone _kill_ someone else when you could just have a civil conversation?

“This is war, Director. The time has come for the strong to weed out the weak, and we _need_ strong leaders to help bring order back to the galaxy. When you act like a normal Chandrilan citizen, you just look like a target for a ‘malfunctioning’ blaster,” he clarified, looking at you with a firm yet tolerating expression. A part of you was terrified by his words. Why was he telling you all this?

“Is that how I look to you?” you asked quietly. You darted your gaze away, wondering where the question had come from. That compulsive, inquisitive nature of yours was bound to get you killed, according to him.

“I wouldn’t have raised the issue if I didn’t see that,” Hux replied, voice edged with defeat. The atmosphere suddenly grew heavy, and you were left to consider everything that you had been told. The full scope of your new way of life was beginning to take shape, and it hit you like a ton of bricks. This wasn’t just about learning proper military etiquette anymore, this was about survival.

“Perhaps this is too much for your first day of training,” the general sighed as he stood. “Let’s end early today, shall we?” You nodded silently, collecting yourself for a moment before you got to your feet as well. Without another word, you dipped your head to him before making your way over to the door that was closest to the women’s locker room.

“Director,” Hux called after you, stopping you in your tracks. “I really don’t mean to put you down. I’m merely stating the facts.” His tone was suddenly apologetic, and it overwhelmed you. It seemed so out of character for such a respected, stoic man to be even giving you such advice. You turned to face him and gave him another nod, even though you were unable to find it in yourself to smile.

“I know, sir,” you said. Once more, you began to exit the firing range. This time you were not stopped as the door opened and closed behind you.

As you passed by the troopers who were still engrossed in their training, you realized that your new pistol was still in your hand. You kept walking until you reached the locker room entrance, then turned to look at the soldiers behind you. All of them worked together in their units, a team of white-clad warriors who defended the First Order to the end. Did they have to fear betrayal every day as you did?

Hux appeared through the door you had come through, most likely not noticing your presence as he marched towards the main hallway. His hand was rested on his chin in thought, and his brows were drawn together in a frustrated manner. You could only hope that you had not angered him with your incompetence.

With a shake of your head, you entered the locker room. It seemed empty, save for the constant hum of the ventilation. You welcomed the thought of a nice, warm shower to help relieve your stress.

However, the door then opened behind you, and your heart skipped a beat in fear when the chromium-plated Phasma walked into the room as well. She stared at you for a moment before stepping over to a wall of lockers. She pressed on the helmet until it made a low hissing sound before pulling it off her head. Her hair was short and blonde, outlining a strong face with bright blue eyes. It was odd to see a Stormtrooper captain without their armor, especially one who was rumored to practically live in it.

“Captain,” you finally greeted her, trying to find your designated locker as well.

“What was that all about?” she asked you, not acknowledging your salutation.

“What was what all about?” you replied, equally puzzled.

“What did you do to make him so annoyed?” Phasma clarified, starting to take off her chestplate. Her tone was casual, but there was an underlying hint of seriousness, almost like a threat.

“I, um… Well, I… I think it’s because I’m not prepared for this job,” you shrugged, resigning to searching for your storage container number on your datapad. Phasma tossed the armor to the side while looking quizzically up to the ceiling.

“Why should he care?” she muttered as she began to pull her cape off.

“That’s what I wanna know!” you burst, eyes wide. The warrior looked at you with annoyance, which made you feel two inches tall. “Sorry. I just don’t get why he’d go through all the trouble... I mean… I guess I’m just not cut out for being his assistant.” The captain stilled, fingers clutching the edge of her cape’s fabric before she could let go of it.

“His assistant?” she repeated, voice becoming soft with puzzlement. You nodded to her and finally found your locker’s number.

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “I just started today.”

“He never mentioned-”

_Blip blip!_

Before Phasma could finish her thought, her datapad went off, and she took a quick glance at the screen before muttering, “Speak of the devil.” The sudden furrowing of her brow signaled that she was not happy that she had to put her armor back on so quickly. She made quick work of the change, however, and even gave you a curt nod as she picked up her helmet. The captain plopped the metal back onto her head, and she paused just before the door.

“I suggest you get a holster clip for your belt, Director,” Phasma suggested with an air of certainty. “There is a concealed carry policy for all officers on this ship.” You gave her a quiet nod before turning back towards the walls of lockers. You inputted the combination for your container as the captain finally left. You set your pistol inside, along with your datapad.

You took off your cap and looked at the insignia. The First Order’s symbol was embellished in a silvery color, glinting in the lights of the locker room. It matched everyone else’s, but you still felt like it didn’t belong on you. Perhaps it was just because of Hux’s harsh conversation with you, but you couldn’t shake this feeling of inadequacy when you looked at it. You turned the hat around and averted your gaze as you began to get ready for a shower.


	4. Guidance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> January's finally over! From now on the chapters might be spaced out a little more in terms of upload dates, but I'll be working hard on new content all the time! Thanks for the support!

It was only a few minutes after Hux had left the training hall, and the general was now standing in his office, coffee in hand and eyes fixated on his datapad’s screen. Typical morning messages were flooding his inbox, and he wanted to get as many of them read and replied to before you arrived after breakfast. However, he had an urgent question to ask of his most trusted captain, who was already on her way.

His history with Phasma went years back, and the two had earned each other’s trust in many ways other than assisted patricide. He was her commanding officer, but he allowed her to stray from the strict rules of the training regiment. She was his confidant, often like a second conscience when he needed one most.

When he heard the knock at the door, he took a deep breath, set his device on his desk, and faced the entrance.

“Come in,” he called out. The door soon opened to reveal the chromium plating of his friend. “Thank you for coming so soon, Captain.”

“You said it was a matter of extreme importance, sir,” Phasma responded as she entered. As soon as the door shut, the general got down to business.

“I need your advice on a new training program,” he stated, folding his arms and attempting to mask his desperation.

“For what troopers, sir?” the captain immediately replied. Hux resisted the urge to work the side of his lip between his teeth.

“Not so much a trooper as they are… an officer,” he resigned. Phasma shifted her stance just slightly, but he could not read her expression through the helmet.

“I can advise you on any strength and conditioning they may need, or blaster accuracy-“

“It’s not about physical attributes, captain. This specific officer needs discipline,” the general cut her off with a furrowed brow. The silver warrior did not stir, leaving the air heavy with tension until she spoke up again.

“So _that’s_ why the new Director was with you this morning,” she confirmed, tipping her head just a little to the side. “She mentioned something about becoming your assistant. I was never made aware of that, and by extension that means that _nobody_ knows about her new position.” There was a long pause in which Hux gulped down his apprehension. It was true, he hadn’t told anyone about the change in your job.

“Well, it has been less than a day since I made that decision,” he assured her. “I was going to make it known soon enough.”

“Right after you’ve trained her, I assume? And don’t lie to me. I know how you like things to be perfect, and how you prefer to handle issues like these discreetly,” Phasma chided. “General, I can't help but feel that you’re doing this because of the… _mishap_ on Starkiller Base.”

“And why would I waste time like that?”

“Because you want to feel like you can fix anything.” He was about to retort, but he knew that he would just be lying at that point. Hux kept his eyes trained on her shoulder so that he didn’t have to face those lifeless eyes on her helmet. Phasma then breathed a deep sigh before setting her blaster down on a nearby chair. She clasped her metallic hands behind her back and looked him dead on.

“What is it that you are having trouble with?” she inquired with a genuine tone. Hux drummed his fingers along his arms for a few moments, collecting himself for the conversation ahead.

“Every time I try to explain why her behavior is unacceptable, she always gets melancholic and silent,” he began. “Just today, she needed to know that her life was in danger if she didn’t shape up — you know how rivalries among high-ranking officers end… Captain, for the first time in a very long time… I didn’t know what to do to train her. She is terrified, that much is obvious, but she isn’t using that fear as motivation. How do you get your troops to do that?”

Another moment of silence.

“Permission to remove my helmet, sir?”

“Granted.”

“Good,” Phasma nodded. She pushed the armor off of her head, and Hux studied the gleam in her experienced eyes. It wasn’t patronizing or frustration, but rather it was concern.

“Why do you care so much about her feelings?” she asked, unexpectedly. The general had no idea how to respond to that, seeing as he had no clue, himself. That was why he had been so uptight after the conversation in the firing range: he was trying to figure out why he couldn’t just let you figure things out for yourself. Why were you such a priority?

“She’s… different,” he finally said. The word sat well on his tongue, and he deemed it a good enough explanation for all the complications that you had caused.

“Different from who? From the other engineers? From the officers who work for you?” Phasma pressed, tucking her helmet under her arm while she settled her free hand on her hip. “She’s only been here for a few days, what could she possibly offer that the others can’t?”

“I don’t know!” Hux insisted. He tried to keep his volume under control, but it was difficult when he had no answers to her questions. “She’s just _different_. I can’t explain it. I just know that if I don’t help her become a model officer, then she will be vulnerable to those who want her position.” Phasma’s jaw moved a little to the left, and her eyes became colder than before. He knew that look well, that studying stare that he had seen so many times.

“Why does it have to be _you_ that trains her?” she questioned. “Why not give her to someone else? You’re the busiest man in the galaxy right now, you can’t afford to be so wrapped up in tiny problems like this.” Hux searched for a retort but could find none. He had absolutely no reason as to why he was so engrossed with your well-being.

“Sir, I believe I understand what’s going on,” the captain continued, voice hinted with discovery. She began to pace around the room, now using her hand to emphasize her words. “She’s done something to intrigue you. Perhaps it was her clothing on the first day, or the fact that she gets along very well with others in and below her rank. Whatever it was, it was enough to make you interested in her actions. I think you want her to be safe because you want to continue studying her. It’s very rare to see an officer with such a unique attitude, after all.” The general stared at the warrior with raised brows. It could be possible, but he also knew that he wanted to mold you into his perfect vision of a subordinate, no matter your personality.

“But, there is still one fact that must be addressed.” Phasma stopped in her tracks, turning her back to him in favor of facing a row of books. “You would never do this for anyone else. Not even me. If there was any other person on this ship that needed this type of training, you wouldn’t bat an eye. This woman has not only caught your attention, but she has also captivated you.” The warrior placed her helmet on one of the empty spots in the shelves and intertwined her hands behind her, adding a very quiet, “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Hux was absolutely silent, keeping as still as a rock. He opened his mouth, then closed it when he realized he had nothing to say. He puzzled over the word ‘captivated’, wondering what that could possibly mean. His mind went back to your first night on the Finalizer, where you had managed to squeeze a generous amount of conversation out of him.

“What are you insinuating?” he finally asked, still trying to put the pieces together.

“I’m saying that her rare eagerness has attracted you to her,” she answered instantly, now turning to look him in the eye. “I have seen you around even the most hardworking of admirals, and you don’t even give them the time of day.” Hux nearly reeled back, grimacing at the accusation.

“You’re insane,” he spat.

“Then why would you randomly assign her to be your assistant, if not to be close to her?” Hux dug his hands into his hair for a moment, screwing up the perfect styling that he had done earlier.

“Captain, I don’t even know her,” he growled. “You said it yourself, she has only been here for a few days.”

“Then this will come to pass. I suppose it would be hard for you to understand the warning signs of attraction after such a short time being around her,” Phasma concluded. She began to turn and pick up her helmet once more, and the general looked away too. “Although, I could be wrong. It would be interesting to see you try to gain her affection—”

“We are at _war_ , Captain,” Hux snapped. “I will not entertain the notion. I want this conversation to be absolutely secret, and you will drop the subject entirely from this point on.” Even though his mind was firing off a thousand questions at once, he still needed to look like he was in control. He steeled his gaze and whirled around to face that unemotional mask. The general glared at the chromium soldier as the silence lingered.

“Very well,” the warrior agreed. “If you would like, I can still give you my advice.” Hux sighed and relaxed his brow, nodding and waving his hand in a ‘go ahead’ motion.

“If you’re really doing this for her protection, then I suggest that you continue on with the blaster lessons and such, but you should ease up on the disheartening conversations. Nothing is worse for a soldier than low morale,” she informed him. “While I think it’s best for you to inform her of the danger that she’s in, you still should try to keep her spirits up. More importantly, however—” Phasma set her hand on Hux’s shoulder. “—you should focus on your duties as General before you try to condition her more.” In the pause that followed, the commander clasped his hands behind his back and stared at the floor as he considered all the information that she had given him.

“Thank you, Captain,” he muttered. “That will be all.”

“Yes sir,” Phasma replied with a routine tone of obedience. He expected her to say something else, one last bit of wisdom before leaving, but she didn’t. The door opened and closed, leaving him with his troubled thoughts and the dull purrs of the ship.

He took a deep breath, then walked over to his desk. The general slowly took his seat as he tried to sift through all the nonsense going on in his mind.

_I can’t be attracted to her_ , he reasoned with himself. _I am only doing this because I want all my officers to be disciplined. Attraction is impossible…_

_Isn’t it?_

 

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“You okay?” Hiram asked you. You snapped out of your little trance, realizing that you had been picking at a perfectly good egg with your fork for just about five minutes now.

“I’m fine,” you replied, forcing a smile. It was obvious that the designer did not believe you.

“Did General Hux do something when he took you away last night? Did he demote you? Tell you off or something?” he inquired before eating a spoonful of oatmeal.

“No no, everything’s fine. Great, actually. He gave me a new job, kinda. I’ll still be the Director of Engineering, but I’m also going to be his personal assistant,” you told him. Andromeda perked up, smiling wide from ear to ear.

“The Red Menace made you his personal assistant?” she gawked, letting out a laugh. “I don’t envy you. I mean, who would?”

“Andy,” Hiram hushed her. He patted your arm with a not-so-convincing grin. “I’m sure this’ll be a great opportunity for you.”

“An opportunity to be yelled at a lot,” Andy murmured to the person next to her.

“ _Andy_ ,” the outfitter growled between clenched teeth, although there was no malice behind it. “Listen, I think this is good for him.”

“Good for _him?_ ” Andromeda interjected. “The man’s crazy! She’ll just turn into a punching bag for whenever he gets pissed off!”

“ _Andromeda_ ,” barked Hiram. You shrunk down in your seat, returning to your egg with a lopsided frown. Your friend returned to you, however, looking at you sympathetically. “I think he could use someone as honest about their feelings as you are. God knows we need as much happiness as we can get. Some people are worried that the Resistance might have a chance at beating us, now that Starkiller’s gone. I think they ought to try cheering folks up instead of just telling us to train harder and work faster.”

“Maybe she could put in a good word for your philosophy,” Baron huffed. He pointed his fork at you with a slight grin. “If he’s made you his assistant, he’s probably taken a likin’ to ya. That’s rare. He doesn’t make that many friends.”

“I guess,” you shrugged. “It just feels like every time we talk he hates me more and more. I’m glad you guys think I’m so open, but I don’t think he likes that about me.”

“What makes you say that?” asked Andy. You returned to poking the now room-temperature yolk.

“I was talking to him at the firing range today, and I asked him how long it took him to shoot a blaster like he did. He told me that it didn’t matter. I thought, ‘Hey, that probably _is_ a stupid question’, but then he actually answered me. _Then_ he went on a long, depressing spiel about how I’ll get _killed_ if I don’t stop showing emotion and stuff like that.” You shrugged, still wondering why he felt that was necessary. Baron and Hiram shared a look, and Andromeda hummed an unsure sound as she ran her index finger over the edge of her bowl of oatmeal.

“Personally, I’d hate it if you became just as lifeless as him,” she said, almost growling under her breath. Then, she stopped tracing the lip of her dish and slapped her palm against the table, startling the group. “What right does he have to tell you how to feel?”

“Andy…” Hiram trailed off.

“No. He can boss you around, he can make you work until dawn, and he can tell you to train for hours straight, but he _cannot_ force you to stop being who you are. He’s such a self-righteous asshole!” she hissed, folding her arms indignantly. There was a very heavy pause after her little outburst.

“If I didn’t agree with you, I’d say that’s almost treasonous talk,” Baron grumbled. “You’re lucky no-one else heard you.”

“I don’t care if anyone else heard me,” Andy mumbled with a furrowed brow. She then turned directly to you. “You oughta stick it to him. I mean, he can’t hate you if he’s made you his assistant.”

“I don’t think I have the authority,” you sighed. “He’s been here way longer than I have, and he’s my boss, after all.”

“But you can’t just-”

“It’s fine, Andy,” you tried to dispel her anger. “I promise. I could probably use some discipline training, anyway.” You could feel the worried eyes fixated on you, although you refused to meet them. Thankfully, your datapad beeped, signaling you that you had to start getting on your way to the general’s office. With speed you didn’t know you possessed, you stood and grabbed your tray.

“Oh, look at the time!” you nervously muttered. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you at lunch—”

“Hey.” Andromeda got to her feet as well, staring at you with concern. “Think about what we’ve said.” You noticed the genuine unease in her expression, so different from her usual go-getter attitude.

“Of course,” you nodded. The group said their farewells and wished you luck with your new job, an obvious tension resting in the air.

You walked away from your friends and threw away your trash before setting your tray down. As soon as you focused on your task again, you felt fear gnawing at your gut. After what happened earlier, would Hux even want to talk with you? Maybe he would give you plenty of duties so that you wouldn’t have to face his disappointed looks again.

Keeping a healthy pace, you made your way through the halls of the ship, retracing your steps from yesterday until you finally reached the entrance of your superior’s office. You reached up shyly and knocked. Moments later, the door opened to reveal the general busily working at his desk. Without looking up, he said, “Come in” and beckoned you with one hand.

You looked at the neat row of five flash drives which were next to the table’s edge. Presumably, each one would go to a different person in the Finalizer.

“I presume you received my message?” he asked. You quirked a brow in panic, realizing that you had not checked your inbox at all that morning. You were lucky that Hux had not scheduled a meeting, otherwise you would have been in the completely wrong room.

“No sir,” you decided to be honest. “I’ll look at it now.”

“There’s no time. Read it on the way to your first location,” he replied, still focused almost entirely on his work. “These drives must be delivered to the officers that I have put in the message. This is a good opportunity for you to learn how to navigate the ship better.” You nodded and picked up the first one, examining its glossy black exterior.

_I wonder what’s in it_ , you thought as you looked for some type of label. There were a few tiny LEDs that spelled out “GH-1322” on the side.

“I suggest you take this,” Hux stated, holding up a key ring with one hand and typing with the other. “I use it when I have to take multiple files around the ship.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said with an attempt at a smile. He obviously was not paying any attention to you. It felt off. Although, what could you expect after a harrowing conversation like the one you had taken part in just about an hour ago?

In the silence that followed — apart from the routine clacking of the keyboard — you slid all the chips on the ring. As soon as you had clipped the ring to your belt, Hux gestured for you to leave.

“Return here when you’ve finished,” he ordered. “And just so you know, Director, I’ve given your keycard access to this room, so you don’t have to knock.”

“Yessir,” you mumbled. You didn’t know why you were so sad that he wouldn’t look at you. After all the somewhat deep discussions you’d had with him, a part of you expected him to engage with you. Even a simple moment of eye contact would be enough.

“Is something wrong, Director?” Hux asked out of nowhere. He finally turned towards you, causing your heart to flutter for some unknown reason. So he _was_ paying attention to you after all. You thanked the heavens that he wasn’t avoiding you now.

“Not anymore, sir,” you answered, smiling despite the fact that you were trying to remain emotionless as he had instructed. The general eyed you warily, then shook his head and returned to work. You gave him a short nod and walked away, ready to start your own tasks.

The door opened and revealed a bustling hall full of people who were presumably coming from the cafeteria. You spotted Hiram and Andy, giving them a happy wave. They noticed you — and most likely your chipper expression — and waved back. After they passed you, you pulled out your datapad and looked for that message you were supposed to have received. Sure enough, Hux had given you the names of the five commanders who needed their daily orders.

**Admiral Hotheen: GH-1318. Bridge.**

**Admiral June: GH-1319. Bridge.**

**Lieutenant Adams: GH-1320. Strategy Room A.**

**Captain Phasma: GH-1321. Trooper Barracks C.**

**Captain Dargin: GH-1322. Training Hall A.**

You were able to figure that the rooms associated with a specific letter would be in that letter’s wing since you had been in the C-Wing training hall earlier. Resolved, you made your way towards the bridge, where you knew the other wings would all lead to if you got lost. You fell behind a group of murmuring officers who were headed the same way as you. Moments later you slowed your pace just a little bit because you had heard the words, “torturing” and “Resistance fighters” in the same sentence, and you figured you didn’t want to eavesdrop on that conversation.

The journey was uneventful, as they always were. Maybe if they decorated the walls instead of keeping everything the same dull grey and black colors it would be more pleasant. In fact, that was the main reason you got lost so often: everything looked exactly the same. Every corner you turned was identical to the last, which meant that anyone without perfect knowledge of the Finalizer could be easily confused. Or, at least, that’s how it was from your perspective.

Nonetheless, you reached your destination and you were able to enter the bridge with no problems. Now the only problem was figuring out which commanders were the ones you needed to give the drives to. You searched the room for the insignia of the admirals, something you had learned by reading through a First Order trainee guide. There were three people in the room with those bands on their cuffs. One of them was a woman with dark chestnut hair and near-black eyes that swept the room with a tired glare. Then there was a tall man with cropped, black hair and a nose that always seemed to be scrunched with contempt. The third was less intimidating: a man with blonde hair and a brow that was settled in a calm manner. You started with the only admiral that did not look like they would tear you apart if you looked at them wrong.

“Admiral… June?” you asked timidly, unsure of yourself. His attention now snapped to you, a professional passivity in his features.

“Yes?” he responded. You held back your sigh of relief and looked at the message again before taking the proper chip off of the ring.

“This is from General Hux,” you told him. The admiral dipped his head to you and grabbed the drive from your hand. He briskly turned around and walked off, leaving you to find out who your other target was. The other man had busied himself with a small group of technicians who were installing a new, updated console to replace the one that Kylo Ren had destroyed on your first day. The woman at the top was still simply surveying the bridge room. Considering that she was the only one who could be immediately approached, you took your chance and stepped over to her.

“Admiral Hotheen?” you asked just as you had done before. The woman turned her head towards you ever so slowly, to the point where you were scared that you had made the wrong choice.

“What is it?” she inquired in a low, sluggish tone.

“I have some orders from General Hux,” you replied, casting a glance at your screen. You handed her the chip that read “GH-1318” on it. She examined the drive like a food critic scrutinizing a meal.

“Why didn’t the General bring this to me?” she questioned you suspiciously. In an attempt to appear professional, you looked her in the eye, stood tall, and even turned your nose up just a tad.

“I’m his assistant, and I’ll be bringing you your daily commands from now on,” you explained. The admiral scoffed under her breath, giving you a cold look — more like a sneer — as she began to leave. Normally, you would have paused to consider why she was giving you that look when you were merely giving her some information, but you had other things to do.

Figuring it would be easier to tackle the A-Wing portion of your list in one trip, you exited the bridge, avoiding people’s gazes. You took the furthest left hallway all the way down until you reached a junction. Luckily, the training hall was in view, so you were able to immediately take the correct path. You could already hear the sounds of troopers grunting and shouting as they fought hand-to-hand.

As you opened the door, the raucous cry of, “Hit harder, maggots! I wanna see some fresh bruises!” rose from the far back of the room. The soldiers that filled the space did not have their armor on and were blocking and throwing punches left and right. You immediately saw who you were looking for, considering that it was very difficult to miss the red pauldron and obscene shouting.

“Captain Dargin?” you called out over the chaos as you got closer. The man turned his entire body towards you, scaring you enough that you froze.

_No! I’ve gotta look like I don’t care_ , you reminded yourself. You cleared your throat and stepped up to him, grabbing his chip and holding it out to him.

“This is for you. From General Hux,” you said, keeping your eye contact despite the fact that you couldn’t really see his face through the helmet. Dargin snatched the drive out of your hand, then returned to his duty, barking orders to his men like you hadn’t been there at all.

“Right,” you mumbled under your breath, getting out of the training hall as fast as you could. You passed by a pair of sparring troopers, and one of their fists connected with the other’s jaw. You cringed and kept moving.

The strategy room was a little harder to find. You searched for a few minutes, often finding that you ended back in front of the training hall whenever you got lost. Eventually, you had to shamefully ask a nearby trooper where the room was, and it turned out that you had passed it at least twice. Trying to hide your embarrassment, you thanked them and continued on your way.

Once you got to your destination, you debated whether or not to knock or attempt to use your keycard. You decided on the latter, figuring that it would make you look like you knew what you were doing. The room was filled with officers, all stopping to see who their visitor was. Instantly, you swept the room with your eyes, looking around for a lieutenant’s insignia. You were able to see only one person with a rank band that fit what you were searching for.

“Lieutenant, I have orders from General Hux,” you said as you took the drive off the ring. This felt oddly comfortable now, even with the plethora of eyes on you. The man held out his hand, and you set it on his palm with a dip of your head before walking out. The silence was deafening, but you still kept your poker face.

When the door finally slid shut behind you, you took a deep breath. You were beginning to adjust to the awkwardness of these deliveries, and you hoped that with time you would not be looked at with such suspicion. Did everyone in the First Order hate each other or something? You shook your head and began to make your way back towards the bridge. From there, you knew you would be able to get back to the C-Wing much easier, and you were confident that you could find the training hall once more.

You were glad that Phasma was the last person on your list. From what you had seen of her, she was at least a little more civilized towards you. Maybe it was because you technically weren’t as much of a stranger to her as you were to the other officers, but nonetheless, she was still decent. In moments, you were almost to the training hall entrance, and you were proud that you had found your way with no difficulty.

There was nothing but silence coming from the room, and you were worried that they might not be there for a moment, but when you opened the door Phasma was standing there, overlooking her squadron as they held a plank position. The chromium captain turned her head towards you, saying nothing. In return, you gave her a little smile.

“I assume these are my daily orders?” she suddenly spoke. The soldiers’ eyes flickered up to their leader, then back down to the floor. You nodded and gave her the last chip.

“Sure are,” you replied, still beaming. You realized that you were being too expressive again, and tried to force a blank look onto your face. The warrior continued to stare at you, and you felt unease welling up in the back of your mind. You didn’t want to be rude and walk away if she still wanted to talk with you, but on the other hand, perhaps she was just willing you to leave.

“Director,” Phasma nodded to you, then turned around to face her battalion. A chill went down your spine, and you were relieved that you were allowed to leave.

_Why was she staring at me like that?_ you wondered. _Well, I couldn’t really see how she was looking at me, but I bet it was creepy._

It did not take you long to get back to the office. It was as if the feeling of disquiet that Phasma had left in you allowed you to move twice as fast. You took out your datapad and checked over your list one more time just in case you missed anyone, and realized that you had only been gone thirty minutes. You thought that maybe you could have some spare time to work on your designs for Snoke’s base. It had been coming along well over the last two days, and you had made some great progress for the basic necessities that he had called for.

You remembered that you had access to Hux’s workspace, so you took out your keycard and pressed it into the locking mechanism. The click felt satisfying, like you were coming back home after a long day’s work, even though the time you had been absent was short. The general met your eye with a slightly astonished look. His gaze switched to a nearby clock, then back to you.

“That was fast,” he remarked quietly.

“Thank you, sir,” you casually grinned as you stepped in. “So, is there anything else that I need to do?” Hux stood with a long intake of breath, then picked up his personal datapad. He tapped on the screen for about a minute, then you received a message with an attached file.

“Read through this speech. I’ll be giving it to the troops on the Atterra planets tomorrow. You’re good at empathizing with people, so make sure this relates enough to the soldiers before dinner time,” he instructed you before walking over to a bookshelf. A feeling of pride welled up within you. He thought you were good with empathizing, and that had to mean _something_ towards becoming friends. Sure, this wasn’t exactly the boss-employee relationship that you were used to, which was typically very close and casual, but it was a start. You slowly moved over to a chair and sat down in it. “And I suggest you take a look at this.” A large book suddenly plopped in your lap, causing you to let out a soft “oof”.

“Yessir,” you nodded. You looked over the title: _The Sympathies of Ak’Tar_. “What’s this about?” Hux looked at you over his shoulder for a moment, then he drew his brow and returned to his desk.

“It’s the story of a man who had everything,” he told you, looking at you over one of his shorter screens. “But he lost it all because he was tread on by his advisors. It’s a very interesting read. Keep it for as long as you need.”

You knew that he was trying to show you this for a reason, perhaps an incentive for becoming more stoic. He seemed to mean well by it, so you shot him a small smile.

“Thank you, sir.” He nodded, his focus no longer on you, and returned to his work. You did the same, diving into the document and preparing to edit whatever you needed.


	5. D'Qar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we reach the point where the story crosses over with The Last Jedi! I hope that this feels like a natural way to input the reader into the story. Thanks for the continued support!

Ten days of this routine went by. You would wake up and meet Hux at the training hall, and every other day you would either work on your physical form and hand-to-hand combat, or your blaster accuracy. By this point, you were nowhere near perfection, but you also weren’t abysmal. You were a fair enough runner and your strength was slightly below average, but it was a start. The goal was survival in a fight, not to be an elite stormtrooper.

Afterward, you would meet up with your friends at breakfast. Andy would always nag you about telling Hux off instead of accepting the role of his personal slave, and Hiram and Baron would hold her back from saying anything too rash. It was actually really fun to gossip about the general. You never went so far into his personal life as the fact that he owned a cat, considering that was something that really only you knew — a fact that made you feel like being in on his secrets was part of your job — but everything else was on the table. It was mostly commentary on how he bit the side of his lip when he was deep in thought or how he tended to relieve stress by writing out speeches, but it still felt like the most dangerous banter on the whole ship.

You continued your daily route around the Finalizer, and you got more and more familiar with the people you delivered orders to. The admirals in the bridge learned your name, and slowly lost their penetrating glares as you warmed up to them. You would often pass by other commanders in the halls, and they would tip the brims of their hats to you or give you a quick, “Director”. It felt like you finally belonged to the crew, although in hindsight it was most likely due to your standing with the general.

When you went back to Hux’s office, however, things began to gradually change. If you caught yourself slipping into your routine polite smiles, he would no longer snap at you as you approached the third week aboard the Finalizer. In fact, he seemed to study you at those times. His eyes would often trail over your facial expression — the only clue that you weren’t being as emotionless as he wanted you to be — and he might slow down if he was in the middle of a sentence. You would then promptly forget your smile and try to turn your gaze just a little bit away from his, and he would continue speaking as if nothing had happened.

While you were working, you would sometimes catch him staring, in the corner of your eye. Of course, you never acknowledged it, but it was always a lingering feeling of being watched. For some reason, it wasn’t unwelcome. It felt like there was a level of trust that you had surpassed with him, causing you to well up with pride. He would even have casual talks with you, on occasion. He might ask about your progress on the Jakku base, or how you’ve been adjusting to life on the Finalizer. You were excited whenever he was relaxed enough to simply chat with you like a friend.

At least twice during those ten days, you both deemed yourselves too energetic to sleep, and you would try to get ahead on the next day’s work as well. Hux would sometimes ask you more questions about how his speeches sounded, and you would bounce back and forth with some ideas about word choice and tone, helping him drift away from a cookie-cutter, lifeless style to a rallying address to the troops. In turn, he would help you with your designs when it came to Snoke’s tastes: what type of furniture he liked, what accommodations needed to be in his quarters, et cetera. You turned out to be quite the team, and it was obvious that people around the Finalizer were beginning to take notice.

Wherever he went, you went. If he was needed in a strategy room, you would be right alongside him taking notes so that he could go over them later when he wasn’t working. When he was called to the bridge, you were at his heels and waiting to give out orders to other commanders if needed. Sometimes you would receive messages during your lunch break, telling you what meal the general wanted you to pick up before you returned to him. Your friends would often compare you to a puppy following their master, joking about how Hux dragged you all over the Finalizer. You would always insist that you didn’t mind. It felt nice to be helping as much as you were.

After that day where you met Phasma in the locker room, you couldn’t help but notice that she seemed to be around every corner you turned. Most times, she was with her battalion patrolling the halls, but it still seemed like too much of a coincidence. It wasn’t particularly scary or anything like that, but you wondered why she was so present when you were going about your daily business. Eventually, you learned to brush the unsettling feelings off, and even smiled at her as you passed at certain times.

Yet, despite all the good things that had happened to you, you were still homesick. These boring walls and floors were nothing like the beautiful marble structures of Hanna City. You couldn’t look out a window and watch the sun set over fluffy clouds in the distance. Transports and people didn’t pass by underneath you like glittering ants. You were stuck on a dull, grey, flying triangle in space. Chandrila was so far out of your reach, as well as your family and friends. You couldn’t visit your mother, who was probably worried sick about you. One day, you had asked Hux if you could send some sort of message to her, and he told you that if everyone on the ship was allowed to write home to their families, it would be mass chaos in the communications hub.

You held your tongue about all things relating to your home planet from then on, realizing that it would be ridiculous to ask if you could go back for a day and reassure everyone that you were fine. You still felt a little lonely, however. No matter how many new friends you made, they were nowhere near as outgoing as those back on Chandrila. Working on your designs would often help relieve you of these depressing thoughts, even though you knew that not addressing the issue typically leads to lingering on the problem. But what else could you do?

At this moment, you were seated in one of Hux’s leather chairs, a little slouched after an hour of continuous work. You were thinking about your old office, and how the glass would refract the light at a certain point in the day so that a good portion of your floor was a rainbow. That was more color than you had ever seen on this ship.

The sound of the general’s intercom system tore you from your melancholy. Hux pressed the button to allow whoever was on the other end to speak.

“General Hux, sir,” a woman’s voice rang out. You could hear the salute in her tone. “This is Lieutenant Markson, in the bridge. We’ve found them.” You had never seen him move so fast. He didn’t even answer her, rather he turned off the device and rocketed to his feet. Hux snatched his coat and hat, moving to exit the room as he wrestled with the large garment. You turned off your datapad and sprung up as well, scurrying over to the officer in the blink of an eye.

“Here, I’ll help,” you offered, reaching out to him as he continued to walk. He slowed down and allowed you to swiftly pull the sleeves up and into the correct position so that he could put the greatcoat on. Hux nodded to you in thanks and settled his cap upon his freshly tousled hair.

You entered the hall, finding that there was a certain buzz about the commanders who were briskly flitting left and right. The general turned right and began to head towards the bridge, and you followed suit.

“So, who did they find?” you asked gingerly as you rounded a corner. Hux kept his hands behind his back as he walked, only looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“The Resistance,” he replied. He sounded triumphant yet humble at the same time, like he was holding back his excitement. “Their base has finally been located. We’ll snuff them out before they can scamper away to another rotten corpse of a planet.” You nodded and continued along with him, feeling multiple sets of eyes staring at you because of your proximity to the general.

The bridge doors opened to reveal a bustling hive. Officers were directing their subordinates, technicians were readying their stations, and a few guards stood sentinel at the exits. Everyone turned their attention towards Hux, and the noise died down a little.

“Tell me where they are,” he demanded, causing a mousy little sergeant to approach with a datapad in hand.

“We’ve found them on D’Qar, sir. A shuttle touched down on the planet for repair, and they were suddenly attacked by Resistance fighters. No survivors from our forces-“

“But we know where their base is, and that is enough,” Hux interrupted, a genuine grin sneaking into his expression. He then walked to the front of the bridge room and spun around to face the room. Silence followed, and only the sounds of machinery could be heard. “I want every ship in my fleet in the Ileenium system immediately!”

The admirals instantly started ushering the lower officers out of the bridge, shouting things like, “You heard the general!” and “Tell the other ships!”

“Director,” Hux called over his shoulder as he beckoned you to follow him. It seemed that the commotion ended as soon as it started, because the vast room became nothing but clicking sounds and beeps after a while. Beyond the doors, you could hear an announcement going out through the Finalizer, telling the rest of the crew and troops of the sudden change in plans. The officers around the raised central platform were muttering into their headsets and activating several switches, and each gave a thumbs up one after the other.

“The Orthodox is ready to jump,” one of them said.

“Quasar is ready to jump,” another declared.

“Fulminatrix is ready to jump.”

“The Fortitude is ready to jump.”

“Ravenous is ready to jump.”

“Sir, the Finalizer is go for hyperdrive,” the same sergeant as before reported. You were surprised just how quickly the other ships in the fleet were prepared for battle. Then again, with someone as skilled as General Hux leading the charge, how could they not be? You stepped closer to the general, looking towards the window for those streaks of blue that you’d only heard about through your friends’ stories. You’d never been on a ship that was capable of jumping to hyperspace before, seeing as you had spent most of your time on Chandrila and the only vacation outside of the planet you had ever taken was a cruise throughout the Ringali Shell.

“Make the jump,” Hux commanded, and there was a unanimous clicking sound in the background. The stars began to blur into lines, and you gasped as the ship lurched a bit. Your boots slid against the polished floor, and you would have fallen had the general not put out his arm to catch you. His hand connected with your waist, and with seemingly no effort at all he stopped your rapid descent. “Be careful, Director. The first few jumps are always rough. You’ll get used to it.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, hurrying to get back to your feet as the ship sped through the void.

“This will be your first battle, thankfully not in direct contact,” he continued as you straightened yourself. The thought finally struck you that you were about to witness a fight first hand. It was an odd mixture of excitement and pure terror, knowing that you would be serving the galaxy, but that you also might die. The chances were very slight, but there was still the possibility.

“What will I be doing?” you inquired. Hux adjusted his gloves and turned his gaze towards you.

“You will be here with me in the bridge, and you will hopefully only be observing,” he said before drifting over to the controls in the front of the platform. “Admiral Hotheen, how long until we reach the system?”

“Sixty seconds,” the commander replied, pulling up a screen and showing a map of the galaxy. You realized just how far away from home you were now, and that humongous distance had been covered in the blink of an eye. An alarm rose from one of the terminals, and the officer seated there jumped up to face her superior.

“Sir, sensors indicate that an entire fleet is leaving D’Qar,” she said, frantically studying her screen. “The whole planet seems to be evacuating.” Hux nodded and pointed to his left, where a lieutenant immediately stood upon being recognized.

“Order all ships to open fire when we exit hyperspace,” he demanded. The commander nodded and swiftly got to work, putting on their headset and contacting the other vessels. You looked up at the general, who was staring into the bright cyan tunnel ahead with a distant gleam in his eye. He was most likely planning out every detail of this mission, knowing him.

“We’re gonna fire right away?” you asked. Hux let out a short chuckle and continued to face the front window.

“Director, we have Dreadnoughts, Star Destroyers, and the best TIE fighters in the galaxy. They don’t stand a chance. This is the perfect time to destroy those pests once and for all.” You nodded with satisfaction, feeling a tiny spark of hope that this would be over quickly.

“Exiting hyperspace in three, two, one!” The announcement went out mere moments before the ship lurched once more. Hux grabbed your shoulder before you could stumble again.

“I’ve been planning for this ever since they destroyed Starkiller,” Hux muttered to you with a slight smile. “Director, I suggest you take a seat near the back. Things are about to get hectic.” You obeyed, finding the first open chair near a broken, hollowed-out command station — probably made that way by Kylo Ren — and preparing yourself to take in all the action. The general was already giving out more orders, talking with a commander that had approached him as soon as you had left.

“Incinerate their base, destroy their transports, and obliterate their fleet,” he instructed the nearby officers. One of the closest captains sped towards him, pointing to something on his datapad.

“General, Resistance ship approaching,” he announced urgently. Hux looked over the data, confusion spreading over his features.

“A single light fighter?” he wondered aloud. Murmurs began to rise among the crew, obviously just as puzzled as their leader. You looked around and saw that everyone was looking to Hux for guidance, but the man looked genuinely baffled.

“Attention! This is Commander Poe Dameron of the Republic Fleet,” a strange voice suddenly could be heard over the speakers. “I have an urgent communique for General Hux.” The operator in charge of communications froze. The bridge went completely silent as they awaited their general’s commands.

“Patch him through,” he ordered. His voice was quiet, but the lack of other sound allowed it to reach your ears. The operator pressed a button and gave a quick nod to him. “This is General Hux of the First Order. The Republic is no more. Your fleet are rebel scum and war criminals. Tell your precious princess that there will be no terms. There will be no surrender.”

A generous pause.

“Hi, I’m holding for General Hugs,” Commander Dameron replied. The room rippled with quirked brows and mutters of, “What?”

“This is Hux,” the general responded. “You and your friends are _doomed_. We will wipe your filth from the galaxy.”

“Okay, I’ll hold,” the pilot said. Hux’s gaze flickered over to you, and you shrugged at him before he turned around.

“Hello?”

“Hello? Yup, I’m still here.”

“Can you-“ The general whipped around towards the operator again. “Can he hear me?"

“Hux?” You could see the fear in the officer’s eye as she nodded gravely. Hux squinted at her.

“He can?” he asked quietly.

“With an ‘H’? Skinny guy,” the Resistance fighter went on. “Kinda pasty?” You gasped, sensing that joking tone in his voice, and you watched as Hux began to walk down the platform with a frustrated expression. His eyes darted towards you, and you nearly stood up out of some need to defend him. It felt very much like when Andy would make fun of the commander during lunch, and you would help clear the air of the hyperbolic lies she was spreading. This was much different, however. This man had the audacity, the sheer _gall_ to make light of him, and right to his face! When his tiny fighter was surrounded by so many cannons, why would he risk such a remark?

“I can hear you,” Hux snapped. “Can you hear me?”

“Look I can’t hold forever,” Poe went on. There was no doubt now that he couldn’t hear the general. “If you reach him, tell him Leia has an urgent message for him.”

Once again, he looked directly at you. This time, he held your gaze. You shook your head, wondering why this pilot thought this was a good idea, considering that he was surrounded.

“About his mother,” the fighter concluded. The bridge took in a collective gasp. Hux’s eyes remained fixated on you as he went stiff. His face became a noticeable shade of pink before he whipped back to face the front window.

“ _Open fire!_ ” he shouted. The crew instantly pressed buttons and the Finalizer whirred to a whole new level of life. You could hear cannons firing in the distance, and the tiny, defiant ship in the distance started to speed towards the Fulminatrix. A mixture of, “Is that pilot going for our Dreadnought?” and “He’s crazy!” rose into the air. All the while, people were working frantically to destroy the X-Wing.

You tipped forward as much as you could so you could see the action outside the window. The ship was dipping between the lasers being fired at it, spinning as it evaded each of the blasts. You were impressed, but your heart sank when you saw it beginning to take out the cannons of the huge Dreadnought. Hux growled and pressed a few buttons on his control panel. A hologram popped up in the center of the room, a captain who was on one of the other ships.

“Captain Canady, why aren't you blasting that _puny_ ship?” he barked at the ghostly image.

“That 'puny ship' is too small and at close range. We need to scramble our fighters!” the mirage replied in an equally annoyed tone. Hux narrowed his eyes as Canady disappeared, then turned towards the front window once more. You understood why he wanted you to stay back for now. The bridge was now a mess of shouting orders and running to and fro between command stations.

You watched as a team of TIE fighters spilled from a hangar on what you presumed was the Fulminatrix. Each of the ships swirled between the Resistance vessels and shot to kill. If it weren’t so gruesome it might be a spectacular show. The Dreadnought fired one of its last remaining cannons at the planet below, and even though you were stretching to see where the shot landed, the point they were aiming for was too far away to see.

A lieutenant stood from her station and stared at the general until he slowly faced her. You could see a fire in his eyes that you had never seen before. His calm demeanor despite his obvious rage was very off-putting, and it was something you hoped to never see again.

“Sir, it appears that another ship has reached the fleet. It just came from D’Qar,” she reported, a nervous twitch in her brow. Hux said nothing, rather he turned away with a huff of breath. You put two and two together, realizing that this whole ploy was to distract the fleet long enough for the Resistance to evacuate.

 _What’s the point?_ you asked yourself. _We’ve got way more firepower than they’ll ever have. What could they possibly do now?_

“General, the last surface cannon on the Fulminatrix has been taken down,” someone called from the far side of the room. You felt a nervous pit in your stomach, wondering what that could mean for the massive ship. It was nowhere near defenseless, but you figured that was a bad omen, nonetheless.

“Resistance bombers are entering our firing range!” yelled another technician.

“Shoot them down,” Hux replied, still maintaining that stoic gaze. “And order Canady to aim for their cruiser.”

“Yessir,” a few people nodded. The whole room looked like clockwork now. Someone reported, someone acted, someone dispatched new orders, repeat. It was fascinating, and it was strikingly similar to a lot of war movies at home. Although you were sure the films romanticized the bloody business of it all, the accuracy towards realism seemed pretty on the mark.

“Only one bomber left, sir,” a captain informed Hux, who was still staring out into the carnage.

 _It’ll never make it_ , you thought. You took in the scope of the battle. All those fighters and cannons against one bomber? It seemed impossible for it to make any headway against the forces that opposed it.

Those thoughts slowly began to ebb away, however, when it continued to move towards the Fulminatrix. It was a slow-moving ship, but nobody seemed to be able to shoot it. The Resistance pilots were able to stave off most of the TIEs that tried to get to it. The bridge began to fuss, causing a growing calamity as people began to talk over each other. Your heart pounded, and you stood up from your chair out of worry.

“Oh my god!” a woman cried as the bombs were suddenly released. The bomber itself went down with them, but they landed squarely on the Dreadnought. The massive machine bloomed bright orange as fire erupted from the cracks in its metallic body. Some people made a commotion as the vessel was destroyed, but most were in shocked silence, you included.

When the initial blasts subsided, a quiet enveloped the room that felt so cold and unnatural that you wanted to leave the bridge entirely.

 _Those people on that ship… They’re all dead_ , you concluded. A wave of disbelief hit you. You knew none of those crew members, yet you were mourning for them. All of them? Just gone? It couldn’t be true, it had to be impossible, it had to be! How could _one_ bomber kill so many people?

A single ping went out from one of the command stations.

“General, Supreme Leader Snoke… is making contact from his ship,” said the commander behind that terminal. Hux’s shoulders tensed, his jaw tightened, and his eyes lost their raging brightness in favor of stark fear. It was apparent that he was trying to maintain a calm outward appearance.

“Excellent,” he replied as he whirled around. He nodded quickly towards you, signaling you to follow once more. “I’ll take it in my chambers.”

Before you could move, the hologram returned to life once more as a mangled head appeared before the room. Your eyes went wide as you examined the creature. Their skin didn’t seem to fit right, their eyes caved with a lonely iciness that you could hardly describe, and their head itself seemed to be cleaved like a cultivated row of crops.

“General Hux,” it growled. You realized that _this_ was Supreme Leader Snoke, the man who was such a recluse that he didn’t even show up to his own diplomatic meetings. Hux swallowed and faced the specter with a look of conflicted terror, as if he was expecting something to happen.

“Ah, good,” he said with a resolute voice despite his fidgeting. “Supreme Leade—“

He was cut off with a yelp as his legs were swept from under him. The general’s face slammed into the floor with a sharp thud that caused you to gasp. Your hands flew up to cover the shocked ‘O’ that your mouth was forming. Hux grunted quietly, his body still plastered to the tiles of the platform.

“My disappointment in your performance can not be overstated,” Snoke hissed. Hux groaned as he lifted his torso, and your eyes widened as you saw the blood that was trailing from his mouth.

“They can’t get away, Supreme Leader,” he responded with a strained voice. “We have them tied on the end of a string.” His hair was matted to his forehead and his expression was that of both pleading and the protection of dignity.

“How so?” the figure inquired, nearly snarling. The general turned his head to the right, then the left, then back at his superior’s ghostly form.

“That is classified information sir. I would have to take this call somewhere else to tell you,” he rasped. The figure paused, seeming to be looking around the room despite not being there. Wherever his face turned, the crew spun away in order to avoid his gaze.

“Very well. Meet me on the Supremacy immediately. I am en route to your location now.” As soon as Snoke said that, a ship at least twice the size of the Finalizer appeared as it came out of hyperspace. The commanders all turned their heads in unison towards the window, taking in the city-sized ship with awe. You blinked rapidly, wondering how such a vessel could exist.

“Of course, Supreme Leader,” Hux pushed out. The hologram disappeared, and you felt your legs powering you forward before you knew what was happening. You swiftly knelt beside him and put your hand on his shoulder, offering yourself as something to hold onto so he could stand back up. He gripped your upper arm and you helped hoist him to his feet. He was shaky, most likely due to the impact of his head to the floor.

“Are you okay?” you asked. Hux did not answer, rather he looked around the room. His face contorted with an angry glare and his lips curled into a deep frown.

“What are you all looking at?” he snapped. “Get back to work!” The crew immediately busied themselves, muttering their apologies while he ushered you out of the room along with him. As soon as he was able to walk without stumbling, he pushed you away and powered on in a direction you weren’t very familiar with.

You moved alongside him, not really aware that he had shoved you. The only thought in your mind was that so many people could have died alongside the Fulminatrix. Up until then, you had just felt that you were doing your job as an engineer aboard the ship, but now the severity of your situation was finally hitting you. You could _die_ at any moment during battles like these. You shook your head and tried to clear your thoughts, looking to the general for a distraction.

Hux wiped at his lip, staining the leather of his glove just slightly. It would be hard to tell if the black material was discolored at all, if you weren’t looking for it, but that blood carried the memory of him being suddenly slammed to the ground by some unknown power. It had to be the Force, that mythical ability that you had seen Kylo use on that poor operator on your first day on the Finalizer. You gulped down your fear and cleared your throat.

“Are you okay?” you asked again. He glared, wild-eyed, over his shoulder, and you shrunk back a few steps. You wanted to say that the wound should be looked at in the medical bay before he departed, or that he should at least stop rubbing it with his glove, but you didn’t want to get yelled at, especially when you were so emotionally vulnerable. You tried your hardest to put on a straight face like him and continue on. The general sucked in air through his teeth and pressed the back of his hand against the cut. Despite how much you tried, you couldn’t resist the need to make sure he was alright.

“You didn’t lose any teeth, did you?”

“ _Director_.”

“But—“

“I understand your concern, but don’t worry about me. I’ve had worse.”

“Shouldn’t you at least go down to the med bay?”

“There’s no time.” Hux picked up the pace, boots clicking in a rapid uniform beat. You nodded solemnly and continued onwards, looking up to the general every once in a while. A group of troopers appeared from around a corner, and he suddenly swiped the trail away once more. The soldiers did not turn towards him in the slightest, but you could still sense that the commander was trying to look fearless.

“Sir, I really think you should get that cut looked at—”

“Silence,” he cut you off. “It’s not deep, therefore it’s nothing to worry about.” You desperately wanted to argue as you watched a fresh drop fall down his face, but decided against it.

The pair of you reached a set of doors marked ‘Transport Bay’ and stepped through. Hux motioned towards a technician who was standing near a specific ship. The young man rushed up to the general with a surprised expression.

“Ready a transport immediately,” Hux ordered. His tone had shifted extremely far from what you were used to. What used to be patient and methodical was now sharp, cruel, and overly intimidating. You might compare him to a territorial wampa, snarling and lashing out at anything that drew too close to its sanctuary.

A shuttle that was very similar to the one you had arrived on was pulled out from its dock. The loading door was opened, and Hux gestured for you to board with him. You stared at his outstretched hand and bloody face, trying to find some sort of familiarity in those minty eyes. There was nothing but piercing bitterness.


	6. Discoveries On The Front

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy early Valentine's Day! I've been a little busy lately, that's why the upload lagged a little from the last chapter, but I'm back and I'm ready to give you more content! Hope you enjoy!

The shuttle had not taken off yet, and you were extremely antsy. Every time that you looked at him, Hux seemed to be observing you. If he noticed that you were glancing at him every once in a while, he did not show it. He was still wiping away the blood, which was certainly bothering you. There was no way to know for sure, but it felt wrong for him to not seek medical attention merely because he didn’t want to look weak.

“Sir…” you finally blurted. “There’s still time for us to go to the medical wing. We can take the halls that nobody really uses, so you don’t have to be seen.”

“Director, the Supreme Leader requested my presence immediately. I cannot afford any detours,” he told you. There was a little less growl in his tone, replaced by a tired voice. As he spoke, another drop fell from his lips. You tried to think fast, looking around the ship for some sort of medical kit.

“There’s first aid on board, right?” you asked. Hux gave you a suspicious look, then nodded. “Then will you at least let _me_ look at it?” The general glared at you once more, as if he was trying to figure out why you would even ask.

“Please?” you went on, staring back at him. You knew that the cut wouldn’t stop bothering you, just as any engineer would fuss over a flaw in their plans. Was this what Hux felt like when it came to your discipline?

“Fine,” he mumbled. “Be quick about it. There’s a survival kit in every ship. Do you know what’s inside?”

“Yessir,” you replied, a little more chipper now that you could actually help. “I read through the basic field manuals that I was given yesterday.” Hux let out a huff and folded his arms, leaning back against the wall of the ship. You stood and began searching for one of those kits. You vaguely remembered something about having them placed next to the cockpit door, and you smiled when you saw the bright red box.

Once you grabbed it, you stepped back over to your superior and sat down next to him. You opened the case and looked through the equipment, eyes landing on some gauze and healing salves immediately.

 _Perfect_ , you thought, nodding to yourself. When you turned to face Hux again, he was once more trying to get rid of the stream with his hand. You softly batted his arm away and retrieved some gloves from the pack, removing those that came with your outfit then slipping them on as you watched him. You reached up and took his jaw in one of your hands, cradling his face as you slowly approached his mouth with the other. He dutifully parted his lips, although with a sigh of discontent, and allowed you to see the wound. The first thing you noticed was that his teeth were pristinely white and set immaculately. Besides that, his breath smelled like that coffee that he loved to have you fetch for him. What else could you expect from a person of such high maintenance?

You returned your mind to the task at hand, finding the cut in an instant. It lined up with his upper teeth, which confirmed your suspicion that he had bitten into his lip when he was thrown to the ground. You were convinced that the bite itself was only the first issue. Being tossed around by the Force certainly couldn’t help. You grabbed the gauze and began to apply a little bit of pressure, feeling his warm breath on your hand as you worked. It took a little while to get all the excess blood to stop flowing, considering how deep the cut was, but eventually it held back. You then reached for the salve and twisted it open, surprised to find that it smelled like berries. First Order medical technology was surprisingly advanced, especially for a warship’s basic survival kit. You dipped your index finger into the gel and applied it to the gash, careful not to do anything out of the ordinary seeing as you were now directly messing with the general’s body. After it was settled over the wound, you waited a moment so that you could make sure the bleeding had stopped. Once you were convinced that it was done, you replaced the salve and took out a small bottle of healing capsules.

“Take one,” you instructed, trying to stay assertive. “You won’t have any water because we’re not in the med bay. Sorry.” Hux nodded silently and you dumped one of the pills in his hand. He examined it, screwed his eyes shut, then popped it in his mouth. He swallowed it and made a grumbling sound, presumably because the medicine was bitter.

You removed your gloves and put the bottle in the box before you looked around for some kind of waste receptacle. You didn’t see anything, but there was a biohazard bag in the survival kit for emergency shots, so you set the bloody rubber inside.

You turned around to make sure that you had done a good job. His lip looked like it would heal nicely, but that was hardly what you were focused on at that moment. He suddenly seemed tame, like a lion after having a thorn pulled from its paw. Hux’s eyes were no longer tinged brightly by the excitement and fury that he had felt prior to your care, but closer to a soft and inviting gaze. Those irises still held that cool, calculating green that you had come to know, but the peace that was in them now added a shade of aquamarine.

It took quite a few moments before you realized how gorgeous they were. They were like pale emeralds set against the peach-colored canvas of his face. Your gaze traveled from his eyes across his cheeks, which were barely dusted with faint freckles. He had a very fair facial structure, adding a sort of delicate handsomeness that went along with his authoritative presence. You then caught sight of his hair, which reminded you of the sun setting over Chandrila. It was still unkempt, which led your perfectionist tendencies to take the reins for a moment. Your heart pounded as your hand instinctively outstretched towards his brow. His eyes flickered from your fingers to somewhere around the room repeatedly before he finally focused on holding your gaze. You swept the strand away from his face, awestruck at the genuine expression of kindness that was there.

He looked strangely human. There was no trace of the former stone-cold general of the First Order. He was vulnerable, his face was sincere, his heart was open to the world for just a moment as you gave him this tender attention. He was beautiful.

“Now departing and headed for the Supremacy,” the pilot suddenly spoke over the intercom. The two of you flinched and turned your faces to the floor. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks, and hoped that he couldn’t see it as you put your leather gloves back on.

“So, uh… Why can’t the Resistance get away?” you asked, trying to drum up a conversation as the ship whirred to life. Hux cleared his throat and straightened his hair.

“Classified,” he stated.

“Oh. Right,” you chuckled nervously. The serenity in the air was replaced with a shy awkwardness immediately. You put a hand on your heart, feeling that rapid pace again.

You had considered him beautiful.

Hux.

Beautiful.

 _Oh my god_ , you thought to yourself embarrassingly. You had feelings for him. Faint, borderline feelings, but feelings nonetheless. He was handsome, no doubt, yet there was something holding you back from saying that you had a full-on crush on him. Perhaps it was because he was your boss, or maybe it was because you hadn’t known him for that long. Whatever it was, you were trying hard to convince yourself that you thought he was handsome and there was nothing more to the notion.

The two of you sat there in silence, waiting as the shuttle continued on through space. You looked out the window, and you were thankful that it didn’t seem like the trip would take too long. However, you still had to be patient and fight through the tension. You tried to will the blush to fade away, staring at the wall with what you hoped was an emotionless expression.

A minute passed, then two. It was utter torture. You nearly sighed in relief when the pilot announced that you were about to land. In order to look like you were preparing for what was to come, you took out your datapad and opened the plans for the Jakku base.

You typed out a few key notes that you had for your team as the shuttle touched down. As soon as you were allowed to get up, however, you stood instantly. Hux joined you a little slower, then led the way as the loading door opened.

“Oh, brilliant,” he growled as you stepped into the massive docking station.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, looking around.

“Kylo’s personal transport,” he groaned. He was pointing out towards the large bay window that allowed passage for ships. You followed his hand and saw a shuttle just like the one you had ridden in approaching. It was pretty far from the Supremacy, but it was well on its way.

“Come on. We need to get to the Supreme Leader before he can give me a headache,” he mumbled, walking off in the direction of a hallway. You sped off as well, hoping to distract yourself with the interior of the ship.

Troopers and officers were patrolling all over the base, and dipped their heads towards Hux as they passed. A few commanders eyed you with intrigue, but none paid the same respects that you would receive on the Finalizer. It didn’t bother you as much as it intimidated you. This ship was run by the Supreme Leader of the entire First Order, which made it an entirely new ballpark for you. You didn’t know your way around at all, and doubted you could find your destination because the halls were structured differently to fit the V-shape of the vessel.

You were thankful that the general turned and headed directly towards an elevator. Two stormtroopers with pauldrons stood next to either side, and there was a keycard slot next to the buttons.

“Stay here and wait,” Hux ordered you. “I’ll be back in a moment.” You glanced towards the soldiers, who stood like statues with their blank yet disturbing helmets.

“Yessir,” you warily replied. The general nodded once before putting his key into the reader. He stepped through the doors, faced you, then gave you another quick nod before they closed again. You didn’t know what that dip of the head was for, perhaps assurance that everything would turn out alright and he wouldn’t be killed by that Force-wielding corpse of a man. You shook your head and stationed yourself next to a wall, pulling out your datapad and accessing your blueprints once more.

There was a silence that enveloped this area of the ship that was very much like the Finalizer’s bridge before Snoke had contacted it. It felt cold and unwelcoming, like you had just stepped into a dark closet. Still, the place could certainly use some decoration.

You typed out various notes like “Oliver: Electric access still needed in the second-floor barracks” or “Freyja: Input new doors on first floor elevators”. It felt nice to be in charge of such a big project, but not being able to communicate in person with those you were working with was unnatural for you. You were a hands-on person who preferred to know that your design partners understood the instructions you were trying to send.

Once you were done with that, you quickly became bored. You couldn’t add anything new to the plans from your datapad, so you would have to wait until you got back to your room on the Finalizer. You wondered how long it would take for Hux to get back, tipping your head back and resting it against the metal surface behind you.

Click click click click.The sound of boots approaching caused you to perk up. You turned to face the source, and your stomach tied itself in a knot.

Kylo Ren was walking briskly towards the elevator, unaccompanied and frightening. He emanated this dark aura of sorts that was extremely off-putting. You did your best to remain silent and ignore him, looking straight ahead at the opposite wall. He continued to approach, but not in the direction that you first thought. He was headed straight for _you_.

 _Oh god oh god what did I do?_  you frantically asked yourself. Kylo stopped in front of you, mask staring you straight in the eye.

 _I’m gonna die_ , you thought, avoiding his helmet’s line of sight. Strangely, he remained quiet, tilting his head to the left while he continued to observe you.

“You are General Hux’s personal assistant, yes?” he inquired. That threatening, mechanical voice sent an icy feeling of terror through your body.

“Yessir,” you squeaked. Once again he was silent for a few moments.

“What are your intentions with him?” he asked.

“My… intentions?” you replied, a little dumbstruck. What did that mean? “I just work for him, sir. I mean… If you think that I might kill him or something that’s definitely not true-“

“You’ve been close to him during your time aboard my ship,” he hissed. You felt a lump of worry forming in your throat. “Know your place.” He then whirled away, boots continuing to echo through the hallways. He didn’t even need to use a key, as one of the soldiers allowed him entry with their own identification card. You watched him leave, fear causing the blood to roar in your head as you desperately tried to calm yourself.

 _Know your place_. It repeated in your mind, over and over. Had all of the general’s training been for nothing? What had you done wrong? Was there some sort of underlying appearance that you carried with you that caused him to lash out? Rumor had it that the Knight of Ren hardly ever spoke to anyone unless it was out of necessity, so the entire fact that he was angry with you gave you a scare.

The elevator doors opened once more, revealing Hux, who was wearing a snarky grin. He dropped it as soon as his eyes landed on you.

“You look like a taun-taun caught in the headlights of a speeder,” he commented, moving past you in a manner that meant you would be walking and talking. You followed him, trying to make your expression neutral again. “What happened?”

“I had a little… run-in with Kylo Ren,” you replied hesitantly. The general’s eyes widened and his brows drew together. You turned your gaze away and kept walking.

“What did he say?” he asked with a little more than a hint of anger. You shrugged, trying not to make a big deal out of it in fear of showing too much of your fright.

“He said I needed to know my place on his ship or… something like that,” you responded, trying hard to remain casual. “Said I was too close to you, even though I’m your assistant. I guess I need to work a little harder on my discipline training.”

“On the contrary, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Hux snapped. His aggression was not towards you, but aimed at wherever he was looking off in the distance. “You have made marvelous improvement.”  Your heart increased its pace a little bit, and you couldn’t stop your smile no matter how hard you tried.

“You really think so?” you asked.

“Of course. The officers respect you now,” he replied, still not looking at you. “I think that Kylo just hates that I’m happy with my apprentice — of sorts — and he can’t be trusted enough to be let off Snoke’s leash.” You let his words sink in. He was _happy_ with your progress.

“Can I ask something a little bit personal?” you inquired softly. Hux turned his head towards you as you turned a corner, reading your expression before letting out a long, slow breath.

“Permission granted,” he nodded solemnly.

“Are we friends?” you blurted. Hux stopped in his tracks, which made you accidentally continue on for a few seconds before you halted as well. He observed you with that same air of softness as he had aboard the shuttle. You remained calm and kept up your eye contact.

“What makes you think we’re not?” Hux replied, even quieter than you. You grinned again, although faintly.

“I dunno. I guess you have a weird way of showing friendship,” you shrugged. “I mean… it’s only been two weeks since I left home, and I never thought I’d get so… _involved_ with you. But only a friend would go through so much trouble to watch their back, right?” The general didn’t smile at you, continuing onwards towards wherever you were going. You dreaded the possibility that you had offended him.

“Of course,” he told you. The confirmation made you nearly squeal with happiness. Your suspicions had been correct, so it was only natural to want to celebrate. Days upon days of hoping that he didn’t hate you had really paid off.

“Besides, Director—” he continued, approaching a large set of double doors. “—you took care of Millicent after I lost her.” He looked frantically left and right for a moment. Once the coast was clear, in an exaggerated fashion that you would have never expected from him, he swept his arm out and bowed to you.

“I am in your debt,” he thanked you. He tipped his head up toward you with a small lopsided grin on his face. It seemed so out of character that you had to laugh. He stood up again and shushed you urgently, although he still had that weird grin.

“We’re friends,” he said, repeating it to himself rather than telling you. He then turned around and put his keycard in the slot beside the doors. “Friends.” He calmed himself, waiting a moment before he opened the door. You took a few more moments to settle down, still baffled that this was the same man who you had known for these past two weeks. He wasn’t even intoxicated this time.

“I almost forgot that we were just in a battle with the Resistance,” you chuckled. The general lost his smile, and he immediately opened the doors.

“This is no time for jokes,” he seemed to mutter to himself. You cleared your throat, trying to mimic some form of professionalism, and hurried inside as well. Hux strode to the front of the room — which you now realized was the bridge of the humongous ship — and approached a cluster of commanders who were swamped around one of the strategy tables in the center of the room.

“Admiral Ithayla,” the general began. The group tensed and saluted him rigidly, especially the woman in question. “Ready the fleet for jump to hyperspace.”

“But sir we don’t know where they are—“

“We do,” Hux silenced her with a glare. He then produced a small blue chip from his coat. It glimmered with importance in the half-light, though not a single person in the room knew what it was. Without another word, he crossed to the main controls at the front of the ship. He pressed a few buttons and slid the drive into a port to his right, causing a massive holographic screen to appear on the front window, showing a map of the galaxy. Hux zoomed in on D’Qar, and a blue line was coming from their location. He followed that trail until it ended near a planet called Crait.

“An old Rebel base,” he announced. There was a slight tone of victory in his voice, possibly flaunting the fact that he knew where their targets were. “Admiral, set a course for the Crait system.”

“Yessir,” she saluted, and the bridge was suddenly as lively as the Finalizer’s had been a little while ago. People rushed to their stations, and announcements went out over the ship’s speakers as to where they were headed.

“Director, take a note for me,” the general suddenly commanded you. You nodded and quickly grabbed your datapad. “I want to do some work on this bridge. First, to put in new systems that allow the frontmost screens to come directly from the console so that they will no longer obstruct the window. Second, touch controls will be added to each station. Finally and most importantly, more lighting. I can’t see two inches ahead of me in here.” You rapidly tapped the keyboard, making sure that you got every bit of that information.

“Anything else, sir?” you asked. One half of you wanted to be helpful during this next round of fighting, but the other wanted to stay as far away from the windows and ignore all the bloodshed that was happening outside those steel walls.

“No, but this time I would like for you to stay here with me,” he replied. “Who wouldn’t want to see the fall of the pesky Resistance, after all?” Your heart sank, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to show it. This was what he had been working towards for such a long time now that you were sure that he wanted to bask in the triumph with you.

“Nobody, sir,” you replied, trying to flash him a convincing smile. One by one, the operators announced that the ships in the fleet were ready to jump.

“Activate the hyperdrive,” Hux ordered. You forgot to brace yourself as the void began to blur outside the window. Instead of stumbling this time, the sway of the ship caused you to fall backward. Once more, the general had to catch you, but instead of holding you by the shoulder, he only noticed your peril in time to catch you by the small of your back.

“Be careful,” he chided, letting you go. You steadied yourself and apologized under your breath, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. If they had, they didn’t show it, because every person in the room was occupied with different tasks. Some were contacting the docks and readying the naval forces, others were sending out commands to the various admirals in the fleet, and a few were running different files back and forth between the stations. You quickly thought of something to say in order to alleviate your nerves.

“So what will be different this time?” you asked. Hux waited for a moment before responding, clasping his hands behind his back.

“In taking down the Fulminatrix, they have destroyed their bombers and a number of their remaining pilots have been shot down as well. They’re on the run, with no hope of survival now,” he explained, slightly cocky.

Before you could ask anything else, a young lieutenant rushed up to the general with a panicked look on his face. Hux gave him a look of impatience, and the man saluted him with a click of his heel.

“Sir, it appears as though Kylo Ren’s personal ship has been prepared for take off,” he reported.

“ _What?_ ” Hux yelled. The bridge’s attention snapped to the redhead as he whirled around towards the control panel. He furiously pressed buttons and tapped on screens, then stepped back in order to call the vessel.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded to know. Kylo Ren’s helmet lit up in a small hologram over the desktop.

“My job, General,” he replied flatly. “And I suggest you do yours.”

“Haven’t you already caused enough damage to my forces?” Hux snapped, reaching up to tug at his collar. “You will remain on this ship until the Supreme Leader instructs you to-“ The hologram suddenly dissipated, leaving him with his mouth gaping.

“What just happened?” he barked at a communications officer.

“The comm was disconnected remotely,” he replied with fright in his voice.

“How _dare_ he?” the general growled. He swept a hand outwards with a clenched jaw, clearly fuming. “Back to work! I want that fleet to be decimated as soon as it comes into view!” Just like your first day in the military, you had witnessed the rage that was invoked whenever he and Ren fought.

“Ten seconds until we exit lightspeed!” a technician called out. Hux turned towards you and worked his fingers into his temples, taking deep breaths as he calmed himself. In some vain attempt to cheer him up, you took a small step forward and smiled encouragingly.

“Hey, this’ll go much better than last time, right?” you asked rhetorically. “We’ll take down the Resistance, then you’ll never have to put up with him again.” Hux met your eye with a faint form of weariness, then he nodded and stood up straight.

“First, we have to take out the cruiser before he can pull off any idiotic stunts,” he grumbled before turning around. “Ready our cannons!”

“Right away, sir,” a nearby captain replied.

The ship then slammed into normal space again, and you gripped onto Hux’s shoulder to stay upright. Once the initial lurch was over, you let the touch linger. He tilted his gaze towards you for a moment, and he gave you a small nod before you let go of him. There was a hint of solidarity in that nod, and you felt better about this whole situation. Perhaps if you blocked out the sounds of war, then this battle would pass in no time at all and you would be back home on Chandrila before you knew it.

The Resistance fleet was still, like a rabbit turned naively away from a hungry wolf. Hux shouted, “Fire!” and the ship’s weapons unleashed their fury. The rebellious cruisers took a little bit of damage before beginning to fly away from the Supremacy.

“We can track them if they jump again, can’t we?” you warily inquired as you watched X-Wings streaming from their main ship.

“Get our fighters out there!” the general ordered before he focused on you. “Of course, but General Organa is smart. I’m sure she’s figured out our little trick already. She knows there’s no hope left.” You nodded and watched as TIEs began to approach their adversaries. It felt like a very disturbing sense of deja vu. One of the black fighters looked different than the others, and you were able to discern that it was Kylo Ren’s ship, based on Hux’s sudden grimace.

The special fighter was flanked by elite TIEs, and came dangerously close to the main cruiser. Kylo flew past the bridge window once, then twice. You wondered why he wasn’t taking a shot at such close range. Was he trying to toy with the Resistance commanders?

Then, a bright blue explosion of energy erupted from the front of the ship, but the shot had come from one of his adjacent fighters. Debris burst from the cruiser, and some of the people around you cheered for a moment. Even Hux raised the corner of his mouth in a smile. The moment quickly faded, however, as Kylo’s ship lingered at the scene. The commander leered at his rival’s vessel.

“What is that imbecile doing?” he growled. He nearly punched the transmission button. “Ren, the Resistance have pulled out of reach. We can’t cover you at this distance. Return to the fleet.” Nothing but static came in reply, so the general turned off the communication device and whirled towards a nearby officer.

“What is the point of all this if we can’t blow up three tiny cruisers?” he hissed, obviously taking out his frustration on the man.

“They are faster and lighter, sir,” the commander said as if he was used to being yelled at. “They can’t lose us but they can keep at a range where our cannons are not effective against their shields.” At that, Hux released the tension in his shoulders and directly faced the front window.

“Well, keep up the barrage,” he responded coolly. “Let’s at least remind them that we’re still here.”

“Very good, sir,” the captain saluted before returning to his post.

“They won’t last long burning fuel like this,” Hux muttered. “It’s just a matter of time.” You continued to stare at the chaos, and you watched the majority of the remaining Resistance pilots turn and head back for the safety of the cruiser.

 _They’re like ants_ , you thought to yourself.  _We got rid of their queens, so they’re all running back to the nest._

As time went on, the action ground to a halt. The TIE fighters were called back to their docks once the X-Wings retreated, so all that was left in terms of offensive force were the cannons. The brilliant comets continued to strike against the cruisers’ shields, never piercing them but instead creating a sparkling bloom of potential destruction.

Eventually, you found yourself strangely bored. It bothered you that you _wanted_ to see some more turmoil, but nonetheless you craved some excitement. You decided to occupy yourself with more design notes, hoping that they would help pass the time as the Resistance depleted their energy source.

After a while, you felt Hux watching you work over your shoulder. You turned to look at him, wondering if he needed something to occupy him just as badly as you did. He shifted a little closer, and you tilted the screen so that he could see better. You labeled a few details that you wanted to add, scoured for the contacts of a few art creators that you trusted for interior decoration, added some notes regarding utilities, and calculated possible living quarters space all while he was hovering near your left side. Even though it was absolute war just outside that window, you felt at ease near him.

“Sir, one of their ships is at fifty percent fuel, according to our estimates,” said a technician.

“Keep firing,” Hux said in a distant manner. He was completely focused on your work, and you hoped that you were doing a good job. You turned your head so that you could look him in the eye. When he too looked at you, his gaze was filled with that same softness that had continually shown itself throughout the day. You wanted to deny that he was captivating you, but it was hard to disagree with the fact that he was, indeed, very handsome.

Hux then blinked rapidly for a few seconds, then took a half-step backward.

“Keep up the good work, Director,” he mumbled to you before turning around and walking in the direction of the strategy table.


	7. Severance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took some time to polish, but it's finally finished! I hope you all enjoy!

Hours had passed, and the air in the bridge had gone stagnant. At this point, even the most rigid of officers were reclined in their chairs, only occasionally glancing at their monitors for a change in their enemy’s fleet. Nothing had surfaced so far, and the Resistance’s fuel supply was still dwindling away. The sound of cannon fire resonated in a dull, deep pattern that perfectly represented the monotonous, unchanging situation.

You had finished your work long ago, and now you were terribly disappointed that your datapad didn’t come with any sort of games. The only vaguely entertaining thing to watch was the little Mouse droid that kept coming in to repair one of the abandoned consoles near the back of the room. It would scuttle in, make a few adorable high-pitched beeping sounds, then extend a tiny arm and work on the sensitive motherboards it needed to fix. After it was finished with one of the components it needed to work on, it would leave the bridge for a few moments before coming back with a new tool on its arm.

Between all the excitement of the first battle against the rebels and the now ever-constant chase, everyone in the fleet had been forced to skip a meal. You were the only one that seemed to be bothered by this, as those around you were working quietly without a care. In order to stave off the dull rumbling of your stomach, you casually placed your arm against your abdomen in some vain hope that it would muffle the growls.

Meanwhile Hux, ever vigilant, was still standing just a little bit to your left and watching the battle as it continued on. His eyes kept flickering back and forth between the enemy cruisers as if he were trying to piece together some puzzle that you couldn’t see. At some points, you had asked him how long he thought the rebels had before their first ship ran out of fuel. He would update you on what the analysis team had to offer, which had been reduced from two hours to about ten minutes recently.

In your boredom, your greatest effort was to keep from slouching in your chair. You were the general’s assistant after all, and you knew that he would want you to keep up that professional appearance you had been striving towards.

The sudden movement of a certain commander startled you, and everyone’s eyes snapped to him as he swiftly approached the general. People began to sit upright, murmuring as they reactivated their monitors. It was clear that something had changed. You looked outside the window and you saw a little bit of a gap between the main Resistance fleet and a smaller ship.

“The main cruiser’s still keeping beyond range, but their medical frigate is out of fuel and its shields are down,” he reported. Hux’s lips formed a humble smile as he continued staring out into the void.

“The beginning of their end,” he said. “Destroy it.” The operators obeyed, and the opalescent lasers began streaming towards that small vessel. You tried not to think about how many people could have been on that ship, and focused instead on the small victory. People’s gazes sparkled as they watched the frigate explode, akin to glimmering jewels against the dull gray interior of the bridge. The general then turned to his analysts and quirked a brow.

“How long until the next support ship runs out?” he inquired. The technicians ran a few scans and looked over their data before replying.

“About thirty minutes, sir,” a woman replied.

“Excellent,” Hux smirked. “We’ll wipe them out before dinner.” At the word ‘dinner’ your stomach yearned for something to eat. You gulped and tried to hide the noises as you pretended that you were busy.

“Director,” the general suddenly addressed you. You were on your feet in a flash, rigid and ready to receive orders. “A word.” He then turned on his heel and led you to the back of the room, near the broken command station. You were excited for some one on one time with him, after not conversing with him for at least three hours.

“I wish to add a few things to the Jakku base plans,” he began. Your heart sank when his tone was filled with nothing but professionalism, although you tried to convince yourself that you shouldn’t care. Instead of dwelling on it, you dutifully pulled out your datapad and opened your note-taking application.

“Whenever you’re ready, sir,” you prompted him.

“I want to add a small military training yard near the south entrance,” he said. “This should be reserved for the highest ranking troopers and pilots in our forces, and should include…” He began listing things off, and you wrote them down as he went on, but you were only paying half of your attention to what he was saying. Really, you were listening intently to his voice. It was rich and even welcoming, not as monotone as he had first been, and the exact opposite of the tone he had taken with you before you had healed his lip. You took pride in the fact that he was warming up to you, a Chandrilan engineer with no place on a military ship whatsoever. He was your friend, which was an accomplishment in its own right.

“...and an armory in the east wing,” Hux concluded. “Did you get all that, Director?”

“Yessir,” you nodded, returning to reality. You began to turn away, figuring that was all he needed.

“Is something wrong?” the general asked. You were surprised that he of all people was asking about your well-being.

“No sir,” you shook your head with a grin. “I’m just a little hungry.”

“Aren’t we all,” Hux said without smiling back. You wondered if he was joking or not, as it was hard to tell with that rather emotionless voice of his. However, when you looked back up at his eyes once more, you saw that near giddiness that you had seen before you entered that room mere hours ago.

“Actually…” he trailed off, shifting his stance to appear a little taller. “I doubt that we’ll have much time for a proper meal after the Resistance has been dealt with, there will be so much work to do. Perhaps you could join me in my office for lunch tomorrow, though.” You hated that you just couldn’t help smiling sometimes, despite your best efforts.

“I thought that you wouldn’t have enough time,” you beamed. “Are you sure you can?”

“Director, there is always time for friends,” he nodded, a faint smirk on his face too. You were happy that he wanted to spend some time with you, especially when he was practically going to be ruling the galaxy by tomorrow. However, the word ‘friend’ didn’t sit right with you for some reason, even though you really wanted him to be at that level of comfort with you.

_ It’s not because I think he’s handsome _ , you reasoned with yourself.  _ And even if it was, I wouldn’t let that get me down so easily. _

“That’d be great,” you responded casually. Hux cleared his throat and lost his grin, and you stood up straight with a click of your heel. “That’d be great,  _ sir _ .” He nodded and strode away from you, shooting one last almost playful grin over his shoulder. It was at that moment that you stared out over the large room. A few officers had their gazes fixated on you, and you felt embarrassment welling up when you began to think about how long they must have been watching. They had seen you let down your guard and drop your rigid facade.

_ How many times am I gonna screw up my training? _ you grumbled in your head. You then became as stiff as a droid and marched back to your post, glancing at those who were staring at you and noticing that they instantly turned away when they met your eye. You hoped that they weren’t afraid of you or hated you, but at least your message came across through body language: I am the Director of Engineering and the assistant to General Hux, so don’t question me.  
  


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Hux was not a typically chipper person. Or, at least, he didn’t show that side of him. Even now, he was remaining as impassive as possible towards those around him, only feeling this happiness inwardly. How could he not be joyful? It was exceedingly rare to ever be able to prove Phasma  _ wrong _ . You had offered him an answer to the questions that she had posed, which therefore disproved her theory of attraction.

He had wanted to be your  _ friend _ . That was that constant longing that he had felt throughout the week: a desire for companionship with you. The captain was indeed correct that he admired your upbeat attitude regardless of your situation, but it was not out of any romantic desires. After all, you were merely an engineer who had only been a part of the military for fourteen days total.

The general’s thoughts lingered on this even as most of the support ships fell to his cannons. Today marked both a victory for the First Order and a personal one, and he planned to call the chromium warrior to his office once this was all over just so that he could revel in it.

“Sir,” a lieutenant suddenly thrust him from his contemplation. From the look on his face, Hux knew that he was about to have his mood soured. “I have an urgent message from Canto Bight.” He felt his lip twitch reflexively out of confusion.

“Canto Bight?” he repeated, bewildered. “What could they possibly have a problem with?”

“Well, sir, it appears that the rogue FN trooper and another Resistance fighter were found hijacking a ship and were then arrested,” the man replied, seeming to be equally astonished. “But they have escaped thanks to a slicer that we used to be in contact with. A certain thief-for-hire who goes by DJ, standing for ‘Don’t Join’. Their ship has been traced to an arms dealer who was at the casino at the time. According to scouts that have been able to track their movements, they are headed in our direction.” Hux took a moment to consider what the motives of these rebels were. If they had such an infamous slicer on board, they were most likely going to try to hack into the Supremacy and disable the tracker. Even if it was the highly probable incentive, there was no way of being certain. There was an absolute truth about nomadic slicers such as this man, however, and it was that they were easily convinced with the right amount of credits.

“Interesting,” he murmured before turning to face his subordinate. “Send that ship a message. Let him know that we will offer him double what they are paying if he relinquishes the rebels to us.”

“But what if they see it before him—”

“Send that message,” Hux interjected with a calm voice. He stared the lieutenant down until he silently nodded and rushed away to carry out his duty. The general turned back towards the front of the room, and caught sight of you sitting in the same chair you had been in for the good part of six hours now. He expected you to be bored out of your skull and bouncing off the walls, as most new recruits were during their first lengthy battles, but you were quietly staying busy with something on your datapad. Curiosity got the better of him, and he stepped over to you. You acknowledged him with a polite nod, then continued to work.

He watched your hands as you typed, and figured out that you were working on the notes that he had given you. Hux was both shocked and pleased to know that you were working so hard already, even though you were away from your primary devices. Your hands moved swiftly, effortlessly gliding over the touch screen with practiced ease. In order to appear occupied, himself, he began to run some routine tests at the control panel.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched your expression as you continued to type. You were focused on what you were doing, lacking that distant glaze that he had seen in so many other officers during these long battles. He had noticed, throughout the time you were working in his office, that whenever you were given a task, you wanted to see it through to the end and make sure that it was done in a timely manner. You were efficient, but not broken by the menial labor that you had been assigned.

He suddenly found that you were beginning to look up at him. First, it was only with your eyes, but soon enough your chin was tipped upwards. It was the same look that you had given him while you had healed his lip. He could still feel the area where it would scar over.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you as he took in your features. He could feel his face getting a little warm and he felt a nervous sensation in his stomach. When he stared into those familiar, kind eyes, he could practically feel your delicate hand on his face again. The touch had been so sincere and caring, causing an emotion that he could not describe. It felt warm and oddly stressful, like nothing he had ever felt before.

“Yes, sir?” you nearly whispered. Hux didn’t realize that he had started to slip away from real life for a moment.

“Director you’re—“ he cut himself off. Why did he even speak? What could he possibly say that you were? He shook his head and checked his posture.

“We’ve almost destroyed the last of their ships,” he finally said. The look on your face changed back to the statue-like one you had trained for. Hux felt a pang of disappointment, as if he wanted you to keep that very expression that he was trying to make sure you didn’t have.

“How long until they run out?” you asked solemnly.

“Very soon,” Hux replied in an instant. He looked to you for some sign of happiness, but dispassionate obedience was all he saw in your expression. The general wondered why he was so focused on getting you to talk to him like normal, although he was trying to make  _ this _ normal for you.

“Director—“ He dared to take a step forward. You looked up once more with that dull, lifeless face. It was one of determination, of status, of respect, it was everything he had wanted out of you. So why did he loathe it so suddenly?

Hux’s mind raced as he thought of something else to say. He clung desperately to the conversation, hoping to bring back some essence of your personality back into your gaze, constantly chastising himself for caring at all.

“Would you… mind taking care of Millicent for a little while after this is all over?” he blurted quietly so that nobody would hear the name of his pet. Your eyes glimmered with curiosity and amusement, and his heart leapt when he saw that familiar sparkle.

“That’s what friends are for,” you replied, a smile inching onto your lips.

_ Friends _ , he repeated in his mind.  _ Friends… _ He had no idea why that word had a negative sound now when just minutes before it brought him great joy. He knew the connotation meant that he was in the right and that you two could continue being in each other’s presence without being remarked slyly upon by Phasma, so why did it make his pulse slow to a crawl?

“Very well,” he finally nodded in reply. “You know where to pick up her food and water. After the Supreme Leader has addressed our next course of action, I suggest taking a quick trip back to my quarters before you rejoin me.”

“Yessir.” Your tone went stiff again, and Hux was at a total loss for words now. That brief moment of recognizable character had sparked a feeling of softness within him, although a man as rigid as himself could never understand it. He whirled around and made to distract himself with work of his own, tending to the fleet that was very unnecessary when dwarfed by the massive Supremacy.

He looked over the fuel supply of the fleet once more, and tried to focus on how the last two frigates were about to fall behind. The crew was buzzing around him, eager to destroy the smaller remaining ships so they could focus on their bigger prey. He could hear the quiet mumblings of orders and plans for celebration about the space. He could not help but be distracted by the thought of talking to you in that same excited manner as the others were.

He was unable to deny that you invoked some convivial energy within him at times, and as terrible as it was that you were capable of distracting him from his work, your conversations were stimulating. No doubt this desire for friendship with you stemmed from your infectious gregariousness, and he had no intention of stopping it. After all, the war was coming to an end, and as long as you weren’t getting in the way of absolutely crucial assignments, he could afford to waste some time spinning meaningful exchanges.

An explosion in the distance cut his thoughts short, and the bridge’s volume raised by a small margin. Peavey, the captain who had been reporting to him every now and again on the status of the battle, slid up to his side with a meaningful look.

“That was the last of their support ships,” said his subordinate. “It’s just their main cruiser now.”

“And their fuel reserve?” Hux urged calmly.

“By our calculations… critical.” Peavey’s voice was honeyed with triumph, and the general couldn’t agree more with his tone. His gaze flickered towards you for a brief moment, but you were still enraptured with your new tasks, and therefore you didn’t appear open to commentary on the situation.

_ Why does that even matter? _ he growled at himself as he returned his attention to the lone ship ahead.  _ She has her duties, and I have mine. _

“Sir,” the lieutenant from earlier piped up at his side. Hux turned his head but not his body, revealing that he had minimal interest in what he had to say. “The Resistance fighters and the slicer have been reported to be on the Supremacy. They’re making their way towards one of our data rooms.” The general — now actually invested — turned with his hands behind his back.

“Send Captain Phasma down to handle the situation and bring the two rebels to the main hangar. Tell her to bring the slicer to me for negotiations,” he ordered.

“Right away, sir,” the commander nodded. As soon as he scurried away, Hux turned completely around and approached you. Sensing his intent, you turned off your datapad and met his eye.

“Follow me, Director,” he said. “We have a little reunion to take part in.”  
  


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You were somewhat scared of what you were seeing. Officers and troopers alike were lined up for what was essentially an impromptu trial. The two rebels were sitting on their knees, restrained and angry and terrified. You felt awful, knowing that they were most likely going to die right here and now. The man and woman before you were dressed in stolen, rumpled First Order uniforms and were covered in sweat and bruises. It was clear that they had been working hard for the Resistance, trying to gain access to something aboard this ship. You commended them for their efforts, even though they had failed their mission.

Hux stepped forward, and as he parted from you, you felt a little less safe in the presence of all these sneering officers and soldiers. To your surprise, he suddenly slapped the man across the face, and you flinched before quickly returning to your rigid position. Thankfully, nobody seemed to be paying attention to you.

_ That was a little unnecessary, wasn’t it? _ you asked yourself, uneasy about the commander’s rash action.

“Well done, Phasma,” he said without looking at the captain.

“Your ship and payment, as promised,” Phasma announced to someone in the crowd, indicating a case of credits that was being wheeled in and a nearby transport. A strange man with jet black hair and messy stubble suddenly broke from the ranks and walked to the left of the two prisoners. The duo looked at him with shock and disgust, burning with an almost surreal hatred.

“You lying snake!” the woman on the ground hissed, struggling against her captors.

“We got caught,” the man above them shrugged. “I cut a d-d-d-d-deal.”

“Wait. Cut a deal with what?” asked the fighter beside the fuming girl. An officer then appeared at Hux’s side, ready to report once he was acknowledged.

“Sir, we checked on the information from the thief,” the lieutenant began. “We ran a decloaking scan, and sure enough, thirty Resistance transports have just launched from the cruiser.” Hux’s mouth curled into a smirk.

“He told us the truth. Will wonders never cease?” he practically sneered. A piece of you wished that you had the right to intervene and let them have at least a little bit of dignity when they died. These poor rebels were already fighting to their last breath and now their defeat was being rubbed in their faces. You remained silent, however, keeping that same expression of nondescript stoicism.

“No,” the woman gasped, wide-eyed but suddenly still. The general’s eyes were a bright, pure emerald color now, filled with triumph.

“Our weapons are ready?” he asked the officer.

“Ready and aimed, sir,” the man confirmed.

“Fire at will,” Hux commanded with a satisfied tone. The two captives thrashed and yelled, begging for mercy against their pitiful cruiser. You felt a deep welling of compassion, wanting nothing more than to get this over with and move on with the swift destruction of the Resistance. You didn’t want to dwell on these feelings of wrongdoing and guilt for much longer than you had to bear. Thankfully, the general turned to leave.

You made to follow him, as it was your habit now, but he stopped you by holding his hand up.

“Director, I want you to stay with Captain Phasma until the execution is done,” he ordered. You held back the urge to look surprised, even though you were now horrified of what you were about to witness. “Go over my additions to the Jakku base with her and ask what she might want in the trooper barracks.” He then whirled around and walked out of the hangar, leaving you in stunned silence. There was a brief moment of silence where Phasma seemed to be considering what to do. You joined the line again and waited for what was the come.

“You murdering bastard!” the rebellious man shouted. You couldn’t tell whether or not he was shouting towards Hux as he left or at the man in front of him.

“T-T-T-Take it easy, Big F,” the thief stuttered with the same casual voice. “They blow you up today, you blow them up tomorrow. It’s just business.” You saw the man below you conflicted for a moment, as if he was choosing to be filled with either pure defeat or blind rage.

“You’re wrong,” he finally pushed out. That was the tone of a man who knew that his time was up, but he would be damned if he wasn’t going to fight until the end.

“Maybe,” the slicer mumbled before beginning to leave as well.

You wanted to look away from the two prisoners, but you were so captivated by their fear, anger, and hopelessness. It was a mixture of emotions that toppled all expectations of what you thought facing death would look like. You hated this. You hated knowing that these two would die as failures. More importantly, however, you hated that the others around you seemed to get a kick out of this. It was one thing to bask in the victory, but another to smile at the losers while they waited to die.

“Execution by blaster is too good for them,” Phasma suddenly declared. “Let’s make this hurt.” Nearby stormtroopers then brandished weapons with a powerful, cracking laser for a blade. You felt a lump in your throat form as soon as it whirred to life.

“Finn,” the young woman nearly whimpered. The two of them began to screw their eyes shut as they prepared for the end.

“On my command,” the captain announced to the soldiers. There was a hum of finality that caused you to preemptively close your eyes as well. You didn’t want to see the blood of these two good people, no matter if they were a part of the Resistance or not.

“Execute.”  
  


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Hux returned to the bridge with a feeling of satisfaction. Everything was running much smoother than planned, and that thief had given up that information without a fight. He was ready for this glorious overthrow of the First Order’s biggest enemy, and wanted nothing more than to watch as their final hope burned into a melting scrap heap.

Everyone in the room was bustling about and already congratulating each other. Normally he would have barked at them to save their celebrating for when the fighting was done, but something was different about him today which prevented him from doing so.

He immediately strode towards the main control panel, overseeing the final commands of the cannons. Each of the transports were being hit one by one with perfect accuracy. The ships bloomed with flames, then were silent and still like swatted flies.

Captain Peavey joined him at his side, and the man looked troubled. Hux gave him a look that bid him to speak, and the commander quickly gave his report.

“Sir, the Resistance cruiser’s preparing to jump to lightspeed,” he said. Hux looked and saw what he was referring to, as the cruiser was turning lazily in its place.

“It’s empty,” he dismissed it with a small nod. “They’re just trying to pull our attention away. Pathetic. Keep your fire on the transports.” For a few moments, he watched the cannon fire as it continued to land on the shuttles in the distance. He counted as they fell.

Seven left.

Then six.

Five.

Four.

Peavey then clapped a hand on his shoulder with a terror-stricken look, pointing with his other at the cruiser. There was no need for words. He saw exactly what was happening. That impudent ship was aimed straight for the Supremacy. The general quickly calculated its rough trajectory in his head. It was aimed at the right side of the vessel.

And it was going to jump to lightspeed.

“ _ Fire on that cruiser! _ ” he yelled towards the crew, but it was futile. The entire ship suddenly lurched to the left as a blinding light was created from the blast. The cruiser tore through the Supremacy like aluminum foil, and the entire structure was shaken to its core. The bridge was tossed by the force of the impact, tipping a full ninety degrees for a brief second as the gravity stabilizers on the ship fought to engage against the extreme stress that had been thrust upon it.

Hux was thrown to the floor with a grunt, and his ears rang out a shrill note of protest. Above that high-pitched tone, the cries of his fellow officers could be heard. He simply lay there, dazed and breathless. The electrical system went out for a brief moment, most likely because of the sudden cut to most of the ship’s power. Computers came back on after a few seconds of darkness, but the fixtures were not a part of the emergency power route.

In that short moment, Hux felt time slow to a near halt. The entire bridge seemed to disappear into the inkiness of the void, save for the light of the explosions that were currently severing the right side of the ship from the left. Then, the lights came back on and everything crashed back into reality. That piercing note continued on as he fought to breathe. The fall had knocked the wind out of him, and he had to remind himself how to get out of this situation.

Once he could hear again, he noticed that people were frantically shouting reports. The Fulminatrix, the Finalizer, the Quasar, the Fortitude, the Ravenous, the Orthodox,  _ all _ of them. Gone. Hundreds of thousands of troops and officers. In an instant, they had all been wiped out.

He finally found the presence to stand, although he was only able to do so after he gripped onto the command station and pulled with all his might. He leaned against the console and heaved in a few breaths, trying to calm his body down after the onslaught on his senses.

_ My fleet _ , he thought. The shock of the ordeal was so overwhelming that he had no presence of mind to feel sad.

Then, his ears caught new shrieks of despair.

“The Supreme Leader is dead!”

He had to listen to it multiple times before he realized exactly what that meant. Snoke was gone too. There was only one way that could have happened.

That girl that Kylo had been obsessing over ever since the destruction of Starkiller had been brought in earlier. He had not paid much attention to it, seeing as he didn’t care for those who were Force-sensitive. But she was powerful enough to take down the Knight of Ren himself. There was a chance— a very small chance —that she could have murdered the mighty Supreme Leader.

_ That idiot!  _ he seethed in his mind.  _ He’s completely fucked us over by bringing her aboard! _

Hux turned towards the chaos that had enveloped the crew and barked, “Damage report! Immediately!”

“Sir, the entire right half of the ship has been cut off,” a woman answered, although he could not tell from where. “The emergency seals have been activated past the site of the destruction, but the hangar is still burning—“

“Did you say the hangar?” Hux interrupted, unable to hide the horror in his voice.

“We’re trying to stop the fire—“

“Admiral Hedgeworth, I want you to take charge until I return!” he barked into the crowd. He straightened his greatcoat and stormed through the still panicking masses. The general nearly sprinted through the door and down the hallway, blood thumping in his ears as he quickened his pace.

You and Phasma were there. The two of you were in the hangar. The hangar was  _ burning _ .  _ You  _ were in the hangar. You could have been brought to the bridge with him. What had happened to you?

The alarms were blaring, but he did not hear them.

You were in the hangar.

People were rushing to and fro, some even trying to abandon ship while they still could.

You were in the hangar.

He got into the elevator, which was being crowded by terrified young commanders and recruits.

You were in the hangar.

As general, he was able to make the lift go where he wanted first by merely inserting his card into the reader next to the buttons. He could feel the heat seeping through the walls as the metal box approached the blazing area they were headed towards. He had to get out one floor above the one he needed to be on.

“Call a medical team to the central hangar!” he snapped at the nearby officers. Determined and frightened beyond necessary measures, he burst from the elevator and began making his way towards the stairs.

_ You were in the hangar. _

He almost leapt down the flight of steps, not even caring that the last two were charred and the door at the bottom had been blown off its hinges. He ignored the sounds of the roaring flames and quickly began looking around for any sight of bodies. There were many stormtroopers strewn about the space, but you and Phasma were nowhere to be seen.

The sound of the groaning metal of a TIE fighter caught his attention. One of its panels that aided in its flight had broken off and was lying perpendicular to its original position on the floor. He then caught sight of a dark uniform. Hux ran forward and dodged the smoking remains of several other grey-clothed corpses.

You were there among the bits and pieces of the ship’s fallen wing. Hux knelt down and desperately checked for signs of life. He thanked the heavens that you were breathing, but then cursed them for what had happened to you. If nothing was done soon, you would bleed out.

Your left leg was gone.


	8. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long to put out! I've been crazy busy lately, and I wanted to make sure that this chapter was as good as I could get it. Enjoy!

There was a bright light above you that seared your eyes as soon as you opened them, so you kept them closed as your body slowly stirred. Everything felt heavy, like you were submerged in tar. You knew that you weren’t in your bed, even though you couldn’t see your surroundings. It wasn’t as plush and didn’t have the familiar comfort that your mattress possessed. You felt compelled to lay back down and sleep for the rest of the day, but you had work to do. Surely the destruction of the Resistance had given the general plenty of new assignments, and by extension you had to deliver some of those orders around the ship.

It took you a while to get your eyes open again, and the light still stung them just a tad even once you could fully see. Your surroundings were much lighter than what you were used to, which made you believe that you were still on the Supremacy. The walls and ceiling were a pale shade of near-cream, and there seemed to be a slight draft in the room. You kept your eyes trained on one of the panels above you as you tried to sit up. You found that you couldn’t move anything. If you attempted to use your arms, then a buzzing feeling — much akin to having it fall asleep after cutting the circulation for too long — enveloped the limbs. You then tried to move your back, but that was futile as well. Once a little bit of feeling returned to your skin, you realized that something was holding you down, pressed against your chest and hips. The only thing you could move was your head and neck, and when you looked towards your feet you could see that there were belt-like restraints above the pastel blanket that was wrapped around you.

You panicked, as it was natural to do so when a person realizes that they’ve been tied down in an unfamiliar room. Your breath heaved in and out as you struggled against the leather holdings. Although your entire body felt like it was humming unpleasantly, you still tried your hardest to sit upright.

“ _Ahem_.” A voice cleared next to you, and you turned to see who it belonged to. A woman was seated in an adjacent bed, which was hooked up to various machines. Those devices helped you understand that you were in a hospital room, or at least one of the rooms in the medical bay.

The woman herself was slightly blurry due to your dizziness, but she appeared very strong, with a soft jawline and pale skin. Her blue eyes were locked onto a book that she held in her calloused hands. She had blonde hair that was naturally wavy, although short. She had a brow that reminded you of Hux’s, constantly drawn in concentration. You knew you had seen her somewhere before, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on who she was.

“Don’t make a fuss,” she muttered, not looking at you. “You’re only being held down so that your leg can heal.” You recognized that stern yet calm voice.

“Captain Phasma?” you croaked, finding it hard to speak. She then turned to you, and your eyes widened when you saw the massive scar that almost enveloped the left side of her face. The burn mark was in the shape of an upside-down teardrop, and ran from her forehead to the bottom of her cheek. The injured tissue stopped at her hairline, which was surprisingly lucky considering the size of the mark.

“Go ahead and stare,” she growled, turning back to her book.

“Sorry!” you apologized, trying to remove the surprise from your expression. “I just… It… What happened?” You hoped that she hadn’t always had it, for fear of looking insensitive. Then again, you had seen her without her mask in the locker room before. Phasma stayed quiet for a while, not really reading her book but instead looking past it.

“I got injured during the battle,” she finally answered. Her tone did not reveal if she was frustrated with you or not. You were at least happy that she had replied at all after you rudely stared straight at her blemishes.

 _Why am I here?_ your mind suddenly asked itself. It was a question that you had nearly forgotten, thanks to being in the presence of someone familiar enough to put you at ease.

“What happened to me?” you inquired aloud, even though you didn’t mean to. The soldier took a deep breath and looked at you out of the corner of her eye.

“That’s something to ask the doctor,” she mumbled. Her voice was now less rigid, but more sympathetic. You put on a blank face and tipped your head back towards the ceiling, trying not to freak out again. You didn’t remember anything past the execution, so what had happened? Had you fainted before the blade sunk in? Did you have a heart attack? Were you burned too? And how did Phasma get burned?

As if on cue, the sound of an opening door could be heard, and doctors suddenly appeared above you.

“Director, we need to check your pulse.”

“Director, can you hear us?”

“Director, let’s take a look at your eyes, okay?”

You felt the belts loosen, and they helped you to a sitting position by adjusting the hospital bed itself. Then, they rapidly performed tests and check-ups on your body. Tap this, apply pressure to that, shine a flashlight in your eyes, perform a few scans with a handheld device that you had never seen before.

“Director, do you feel any pain here?” a nurse asked you quietly. She was pressing on your left shin. You tried to focus on that hand, but you could only see it. It felt like nothing was there at all.

“I don’t feel  _anything_ ,” you said with a shake of your head. The doctors exchanged nervous glances and jotted things down on some datapads before an older, kind looking man approached your bed.

“That’s normal,” he assured you. He tapped the same spot that the nurse had, ushering her away to do some other duty. “You’re doing really well, Director. Your body has responded well to the healing medication, and you’re on your way to a full recovery. You’ll start rehab in a few days, okay?”

“What happened?” you blurted, searching for an answer to the most important question. The room went silent, except for the constant whirring and beeping of the equipment. A woman with dark brown hair and a concerned fogginess in her eyes stepped forward.

“You were trapped under a broken TIE fighter,” she told you. “It… The wing fell on your leg. It took it right off.” Icy fear spread so quickly through your veins that you didn’t even feel the crackling nerves in your limbs anymore.

“So… I can’t feel it because I have a prosthetic?” you almost whimpered. Tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes and you felt faint.

“Director, we’re not primitive,” the doctor chuckled. “We grew you a new one.” You let the shock wash over you, watching as the medical staff began bubbling with laughter at your expression.

“That’s usually the face we get,” said one of the nurses. “The recovery process is a bit of a challenge, but you’re General Hux’s assistant, so we know you can handle anything.” Another short ripple of giggles went through the assembled team. That name sent a spark into your mind.

“Is he okay?” you asked. There were a few silent nods, as if they were wary of saying that he was healthy. “Can I see him?” Phasma scoffed beside you, and one of the nurses quirked a brow.

“You _want_ to see him?” he asked. That earned him a nudge from the woman who had pressed on your leg. “Of course, Director. We’ll send him a message once we change out your medication.” The group then dispersed about your bed, unhooking IV bags and pressing buttons on the monitors around your bed.

“Lord knows he’s probably busy,” an indistinguishable voice muttered.

You focused on staying collected on the outside while managing the unending confusion on the inside. There were so many questions that you wanted to ask, but you felt that the people around you were more focused on their current tasks than telling you how you had gotten into this situation.

Eventually, the doctors and nurses left, leaving you and Phasma alone. You looked at the soldier, but turned away when you saw that she was still wholly uninterested in what you were up to. You looked up at a clock on the wall, which displayed 2:17.

 _How long have I been out for?_ you wondered. In your sudden state of boredom, you tried to wiggle your new leg. Sadly, there was still no feeling in it. In fact, there was a separate IV trailing from it that was being pumped full of an odd blue liquid. You had the disheartening idea that you wouldn’t be feeling it for a while.

Minutes passed with nothing but the hum of the lights and the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor you were hooked up to. You watched the door intently, ready to finally see the General again. He was your superior, but apart from those who you sat with at meals he was the closest thing you had to a true friend.

Your heart leapt when the door slid open. Hux stood there for a few seconds, taking in your condition before dipping his head quickly to Phasma.

“Director,” he greeted you with a similar nod. You gave him a genuine smile, figuring you were in too rough of a condition to care about keeping yourself emotionless.

“General,” you beamed in reply. The captain then threw her legs over one side of the bed, closing her book with a muted slapping sound. She put on a pair of blue slippers and walked to the other side of the room. On the wall, there was a small coat rack, which held a lengthy cloak that looked just like a flowery nightgown.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” she sighed. She began to make her way over to the general. “If the doctors ask, tell them I’m in the library again.” She exited as Hux entered, and soon the door closed and allowed silence to envelop the room once more.

“Is she allowed to do that?” you asked jokingly. Hux smiled just barely and moved towards you with his hands behind his back.

“If she wasn’t, I doubt anyone would stop her,” he replied. “She’s been itching to get out of here ever since the accident. The operation itself took three different stages of grafting to get to where it is now, and that was many days ago.” You knit your brows in confusion but still kept your now-wary grin.

“What do you mean?” you inquired with a small laugh, tilting your head to the side. “I mean we won the battle just yesterday. I guess I blanked out or something because I don’t remember much of it. Maybe it’s the meds.” Hux was now painted with the same shade of befuddlement as you, although he completely lost his somewhat happy face.

“They didn’t tell you?” he mumbled. Something was wrong, and because you didn’t know what it was you were greatly unsettled by the concern in his eyes.

“Tell me what?” Your question went unanswered for a while, and Hux’s expression became heavy with pity. It was a look that caught you off guard, especially when he dragged a nearby stool over to your bedside and sat down. He hung his head low, features shifting between a conflicted frown and a full scowl. Before he replied, he leaned a little bit backwards and closed his eyes to take a deep breath.

“You’ve been unconscious for two weeks,” he informed you, crossing his arms and obviously struggling to hold eye contact with you. Your brows raised and you felt your jaw slacken. That couldn’t be possible, or, at least it didn’t seem that way.

“They told me that my leg got crushed by a TIE fighter,” you hesitated to respond. “I guess that probably takes time to heal, if they had to make another one for me.” It was more of a clarification for yourself than a statement towards him, but now you were able to move onto a very pressing matter.

“How did that happen?” you asked, shifting a little bit and finding that you were able to feel most of your right arm. “I mean, did it just malfunction and fall apart? I don’t get it. And Phasma! What happened to her? Did the Resistance fighters escape and fight back after I got knocked out?” You tried to speak with a smile on your face, in an attempt to alleviate some of the stress that was present in Hux’s demeanor.

“You and Captain Phasma are very lucky to be alive,” he murmured. You heard the faint sound of him clenching his fists as he turned to look at the floor. “That cruiser ripped the Supremacy in half.”

“ _What?_ ” you exclaimed. You recalled the view of the ship from the Dreadnought’s command deck, and how they had been trying to escape from the First Order fruitlessly. “It went _through_ the ship? How did it do that? I thought they were running away!”

“It jumped to lightspeed,” he hissed towards the tiles below him. You froze in place, wondering why he was so angry. You dismissed it as the fact that he had lost the best ship in the First Order.

“But if the cruiser’s gone too, then that means that we’re… We’re done,” you added, hope sparking within you. Your mind lit up with images of your apartment, your office, and the streets of Hanna City. “So, that means I’m going back to Chandrila. I get to go back, I get to go home—” You cut yourself off when you saw the resenting and nervous expression that the general still held. He clearly hadn’t told you something, so you tried to quell your excitement for the time being.

“Sir?” you almost whispered. You wanted to reach out a hand, regardless of the tingling in your nerves, although he was too far away for you to place it on his shoulder. Even then, you wondered if he would even accept the contact. Hux looked back up at you, eyelids drooped and mouth curled downwards in remorse.

“We lost,” the general mumbled, leaving your breath hanging in the air. Shock paralyzed you as he began to explain. “The impact of the cruiser caused a chain reaction that wiped out our entire fleet, with only half of the Supremacy surviving. Snoke was killed, we were distracted by this… this Jedi... _projection_ on Crait, then the rebels fled. We’re still fighting.” You stayed silent, processing everything he had just told you. The whole armada had been decimated, which meant that the First Order would have to start from scratch, recruitment and transportation-wise. Besides that, the Supreme Leader was gone as well, which left everyone without someone to guide them.

“After Snoke was killed, I went to investigate what had happened,” Hux went on, slowly and increasingly quiet. “I found Kylo there, lying in the middle of his throne room, and…” It appeared as though he could not continue, having to take another calming breath before pushing out the last part of the sentence.

“He took up Snoke’s position,” he concluded, defeat enveloping his tone as he hung his head. You remembered all the times where the two men had bickered over certain things aboard the Finalizer, and how they were determined rivals. To see someone that he hated so much become his superior, it must have crushed him. Plus, there was nothing he could do to express his displeasure or else — knowing Kylo Ren — he would be killed. You threw the thoughts of home out the window, knowing that at this moment you wanted nothing more than to comfort him.

“It’s okay,” you offered, trying to grin despite the tension hanging in the air. “We can still win.” At that moment, the general tipped his head back up towards you. His eyes were glassy and his brow was bowed upwards in doubt. There was an entirely new side of him revealed just then, one that you had never seen before. He was terrified. There was no other word to describe the utter restlessness that he displayed. He had the look of a man who didn’t know what was going to happen next.

“I hope so,” he muttered, barely audible. “And I’m sorry, Director.”

“What are you sorry for?” you asked uneasily. Hux then aimed his gaze somewhere to your lower right and closed his eyes, brows knitting in that contemplative way that he used when he was trying to put sensitive words together. It was a look you had often seen during training, when it was obvious that he was attempting to spare your feelings in some manner, although you never knew why.

“I know how close you were to them,” he whispered. “Those people that you sat with in the cafeteria.”

You froze as if you had suddenly become stone. You tried to figure out what he meant by that, and even when you did you searched as hard as you could for evidence that it wasn’t true. Your pupils shrank as you scanned the general’s face. It was too horrible for your mind to accept. You couldn’t believe that you hadn’t thought about that sooner, even though he had already told you that the Finalizer had been destroyed.

“They’re dead,” you uttered bluntly. You wondered why you said it out loud. Perhaps it was because you needed a voice to tell you the outright truth.

 _Andy, Hiram, Baron… They’re all gone_ , you told yourself. The heart monitor increased its tempo as you struggled to breathe normally. Your throat tightened and your eyes stung, and although you tried to fight it a hiccup escaped from your mouth. Scalding tears began to stream down your cheeks, and the room became blurrier with each passing moment.

“ _No_ ,” you begged in a whimper. “They _can’t_ …” You shook your head, knowing that deluding yourself would do no good. You blinked away the cloudiness in your eyes and focused on Hux again. If he looked scared before, he was _horrified_ now. His brows and eyes were drawn up like curtains, showing every bit of bewilderment and confusion in his expression. He swallowed, now seemingly unable to focus on anything but you and the state of utter misery he had accidentally caused.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, moving your hand up to try to remove the signs of melancholy. Hux stood up so fast that the stool groaned as it shot a few inches backward. He practically dove for you, the fabric of his greatcoat cascading over your form like a descending bird’s wings. However, when he finally got as close as he wanted to, his hands simply hovered a foot away from you, fingers flexing with indecision. A few more wracking sobs coursed through you, and you once again sought to hide your sadness. He batted one of your arms away, although without forcefulness, and shakily reached out to put his hand on your shoulder. The other one reached for the hand that was still near your face, and he took it with a little too much grip.

“It’s alright,” he stammered. It looked as if the words were entirely alien to him, judging by his obtuse expression and the way that his eyes were still shifting left and right. “Just… Breathe, Director. That’s what’s important right now. Breathe.” He blocked out the blinding lights above you, allowing yourself to be enveloped by a dark, calming environment. Hux continued to state that mantra of “just breathe” until you took deep, gulping breaths to try to steady yourself.

“What about Millicent?” you blubbered, wondering how he felt about his beloved companion.

“Shh, it’s okay. She was transported onto the Supremacy a few hours after we left,” he assured you. “I knew that when we won, Snoke would have had me stay on his ship while we worked on our new diplomatic strategies to gain the support of the other systems.” That condolence, although a little too wordy to get through your saddened haze, helped you begin to relieve your anxiety, and you tried to follow his simple instructions.

You breathed to a three-count, making sure that you were absolutely calm before you looked back up into his eyes. They were still worried, no doubt, but had a glitter of relief in them. His lips released their tension, removing the taut line in favor of a relaxed downturn.

You never would have expected it, but the hand that was on your shoulder slowly let go and drifted towards your face. His gloved index finger trailed across the skin near your eye and swept away the streaks. The leather was now warm thanks to your body heat, and felt familiar and secure. It switched and did the same for the other side. Then, surprisingly, that hand went back to hover over the original cheek. It was quiet, and you continued to stare into those eyes which held less and less fright each passing second.

He looked just as he had on the transport at that moment. He was actually susceptible to visible emotion and had plenty to show. The general was less rigid and cold, more of a man with a heart of gold than steel.

You tried to persuade yourself that you didn’t feel more than just comfort in this moment, that there was no further enjoyment that you gained from it, but you couldn’t. His soft gaze, his kind touch, and the way that he seemed to be more sensitive when he was around you, they all attributed to this growing attraction that you were futilely ignoring. Every time that he showed this open-hearted side, it felt like you had unlocked this secret version of him that nobody else got to see. He was always near you, which made you wonder if he had ever shown that sweet gaze to any other person.

As an experiment, you lifted your hand as well and pressed it to the back of his, cradling it against your face. His eyes widened for a brief moment, and you saw his shocked yet calculating demeanor interrupt the soft atmosphere for a moment. It soon returned, however, and his shoulders even dropped. You felt his thumb twitch once, then it brushed against the skin of your cheek.

You felt your heart thumping briskly inside your chest, and you knew that you couldn’t deny it any longer. You were falling for him, the detached and indifferent general that had inspired fear throughout the galaxy.

“Thank you,” you whispered, trying not to grin too wide and ruin the serenity.

“Of course,” Hux muttered in reply. His expression kept shifting between disbelief and what you hoped was faint adoration.

 _Is it even possible that he feels the same way?_ you asked yourself. _Then again, he hasn’t pulled away._

The two of you flinched when the door slid open once more. Hux retracted his hand so quickly that the leather nearly caused a slight burn against your face, and you felt extremely disappointed. Phasma was standing there, now holding three books instead of the one that she had left with.

“Oh,” she said blankly. “You’re still here.” The general cleared his throat and took a step away from your bedside, turning his back to you entirely. His shadow was no longer protecting against the blazing fixtures, and it felt cold and disheartening.

“I was just leaving, assuming the doctors will be bringing her dinner soon,” Hux replied with a stiff nature. You squinted, and noticed a faint redness on the tips of his ears.

“They always do,” Phasma rolled her eyes as she returned to her own bed. You thought about what type of standing she had with him if she could blatantly pull a disrespectful move like that. Then again, she didn’t seem like the type that _anyone_ would want to mess with. “Unless you’ve forgotten that they had to kick you out every time they needed to give her nutrients—”

“Thank you, Captain,” Hux almost barked. His boots clicked savagely against the tiles as he exited. “I’ll return tomorrow.” You debated whether or not to wave after him, but he didn’t look back at you once he crossed the threshold of the door. Instead, you turned to look at the soldier next to you, and caught her eyeing you like a hawk.

“Hopeless,” she muttered, turning back to her books as soon as she met your gaze.

“What?” you replied, shifting to make yourself more comfortable.

“I don’t understand what he sees in you,” she sighed, flipping to the first page of one of the novels. You had no idea what to make of that, other than perhaps a jab at your position as his assistant, so you tried to shrug it off by reminding yourself of what she had said right before the general left.

“They had to kick him out?” you inquired curiously. Phasma lifted her head towards you, obviously a little annoyed that you were getting between her and her story.

“He’s been visiting you every day since you were put in here,” she grumbled before returning to her book. You would have been flattered if another question that needed to be answered hadn’t been raised.

“Where exactly are we?” you asked. “I mean, the ship could only fly so far, right?” This time, the woman didn’t turn to you, rather she began to read through the beginning page.

“We’re on Hays Minor, in our military training base,” she replied. Then, she went silent and even turned her torso away from you to get some peace and quiet. You tried to figure out where that was in the galaxy, but the name didn’t ring any bells. There were no windows in the room, so you had no idea what the planet’s surface looked like. You acted out of reflex and moved to pull out your datapad, but then you looked around and realized that it wasn’t there. With a wry frown, you made a mental note to ask Hux to bring it to you when he visited you tomorrow, as long as it wasn’t a pile of ashes in the Supremacy hangar.

 _Speaking of him_ , you thought. _It was awfully sweet of him to help me through that_. You sighed and tried to hold back a smile, still feeling the ghost of his hand against your face. For a brief moment, you wondered if this sudden realization of your attraction to him was born out of a stressful situation and the fact that you were emotionally vulnerable. You inwardly shook your head at the idea. You had been trailing him for weeks now, and you hadn’t once complained about doing what he asked, partially because you wanted so badly to see his rare joyful or appreciative moments.

You relaxed and laid back against the pillows, resigning to daydream about your new impromptu puppy love. You thought about those moments where you had caught him in a work-related trance, finding it both admirable and somewhat charming that he could devote himself to a task. There was also his fondness for his cat, which was adorable to a very high degree. It was odd to think that such an infamously brutal person was really just putting on a mask. He had taught you to hide your emotions and fears behind a collected composure, just as he did, and you knew that it was extremely hard to do so. You felt lucky that you were one of the only people who seemed to be able to get him to crack.

You wanted to giggle uncontrollably, to squeal, to throw your covers over your head and act like a complete teenager, but with Phasma in the room you decided against it. It had been so long since you had ever really had romantic feelings for anyone, because you were so busy back on Chandrila, but your duties had now allowed you to find someone to fawn over.

 _But_ _still_... your mind whispered unconsciously, reminding you of all the information that Hux had shared with you. A few more moments of silence passed, and you were pulled back into a melancholic state. You couldn’t just forget about what he had told you, despite what he had done to help console you afterward. Your friends had been killed by the Resistance, and there were still some of them out there. Your heart pounded with fear as you realized that they could be anywhere in the galaxy now, including your home.

What if they tried to destroy Hanna City? What if they kidnapped people to fight for them now that their numbers were so low? What would your poor mother do without you there to at least guide her to safety? You were well-equipped now with basic military training and blaster safety, but you had no way of reaching her. You were stuck here on Hays Minor in a boring room with too many lights and a captain who looked like she could kill you with a look if you even thought about leaving.

 _Andromeda._ Her name popped back into your head. She had to be as young as you were. It wasn’t fair that she had died. Hiram and Baron weren’t bloodthirsty either. Most of the people aboard those ships had been doing nothing more than their assigned duties, yet they had all been slaughtered. You put a hand to your heart, thanking whatever higher power was out there that you had been a part of that extremely fortunate few who had made it out alive.

It took all of your will to hold back your tears, as it was difficult to just accept that death was a part of war, at least from your perspective. How could one tiny cruiser cause so much damage and heartbreak? The Resistance claimed they fought for justice, but how many husbands and wives wouldn’t get to go home now? How many parents had to give a funeral service to a body that could never be found?

Your hands clenched into fists, although the IV protested a little bit. It was infuriating and tragic to know that those people had gotten away with murder as devastating as that. You were imbued with a fighting spirit that you didn’t know you could possess. Call it petty and horrifying for wanting to get revenge on those heathens, but you wished that you could trade their lives for the thousands that they had taken.

For a few minutes, you thought over what the next move could possibly be. There were so many factors to the precarious situation the First Order was now in, and it wasn’t like you could make some stellar difference in your position, but you were still brewing with plenty of disgust and a thirst for _real_ justice.

Eventually, the doctors entered and set a tray of warm oatmeal and fruits in front of you, encouraging you to eat as much as your stomach could handle. You obeyed, but you hardly spoke to any of them. As soon as you were finished with the relatively bland meal, they took the empty dishes and silverware away and left you to rest, adjusting your bed so that you could properly sleep.

After what felt like an hour of endless brooding, you finally gave up and began to drift off. In your final moments of consciousness, you felt something settle down next to your torso. It was just as warm as the meal you’d just had, but you couldn’t really sense what the large lump felt like as you were too far gone to move or care. Instead of thinking further on it, you let yourself become enveloped by sleep.


	9. Testing The Waters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof sorry about the long period between chapters. I've been working super hard since all my tests and projects for most units were crammed in right before spring break. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Dull rumbling woke you from your slumber, and you opened your eyes to see two beautiful green orbs and an adorable pink nose staring you in the face.

 _Millicent?_ you thought to yourself. The cat was situated so that her legs were pressed against your stomach while she lightly pawed at your sheets. Her purrs reached a new volume when you looked at her. You pulled your arm out from under the warm covers and tried to relieve the same buzzing sensation that you had felt the previous day by reaching out to pet her. The feline pressed the top of her head against your palm and nuzzled it, now twisting her body so that she could stand on the mattress.

You ever so slowly began to sit up, now fully awake and entertained by the creature. Millicent moved with you and jumped into your lap once you were upright. You turned your head and saw that Phasma was already gone, then you gazed at the clock. It was a little after eight in the morning, which meant that you were well beyond sleeping in, compared to your normal sleeping schedule. By now you would have done plenty of training and would be on your way to breakfast, but you had no idea what your days would be like while you were in the medical wing.

Millicent mewled and flipped onto her back, stretching her legs and cocking her head as she curved her body this way and that. You didn’t know much about cats, so you had no idea what she was doing, but she was so cute that you felt that you didn’t really _need_ to know.

What you _did_ need to know was how she got there.

 _Maybe Hux brought her in?_ you wondered, as it seemed the most likely cause. The small cat rolled over and began to nose at your new leg, which you still couldn’t feel. You quirked your mouth to the side and picked her up, bringing her muzzle up to your face.

“Did the general carry you here?” you inquired in a cooing voice. “Or do you love me so much that you walked here on your own?”

“ _Mrrow_.” The feline stared at you with a naive expression, tail curling and slightly swaying as you brought her in for a little embrace. She was soft and her purring never ceased, helping you remain calm as you blinked away the last remains of the blurriness of sleep.

It was obvious that Hux had taken her to you at some point in the night, but you wondered how he had managed to keep her a secret. The thought of Millicent being tucked away inside his massive coat made you laugh under your breath.

The cat pawed at your hospital gown as the door opened. One of the nurses from yesterday came in, carrying a tray full of some sort of yogurt and crackers. You inwardly rolled your eyes due to the inevitable lack of proper taste, but you figured that they knew more than you did about what your body needed right now to help heal.

“Good morning, Director,” the woman greeted you as you shoved Millicent under the bed. There was a muffled whine of protest and you had to force the creature under your right leg in order to keep her from squirming. “Is everything okay?”

“Yup!” you beamed in reply, trying not to focus too much on her concerned expression. “Just a little restless, y’know? I feel cooped up.”

“Oh,” she nodded. “I understand. You’ll start rehabilitation soon, though, don’t worry.” It took all of your special training to resist the urge to smile or giggle when Millicent tried to wrap her limbs around your leg. Thankfully, the woman seemed occupied with the machinery by your bed. She hummed in thought and examined the screen that was positioned to your right.

“Well, it seems like your body is healing very well, Director,” she smiled towards the data. “Not a lot of people tend to do so well after being woken up. I think we ought to call Dr. Jikari and see if you’ll be ready for the new IV this afternoon. You stay right here and finish your breakfast. I’ll be back in about twenty minutes with the doctor.”

 _It’s not like I could go anywhere if I wanted to_ , you said to yourself. You dipped your head to her as she left, waiting until the door closed behind her before carefully setting your tray aside. You lifted up the sheets to find Millicent lazily licking your left kneecap.

“Y’know, that would really tickle if I could feel that,” you sighed as you released her. “And if I had started laughing then that nurse would’ve been onto you.” Millicent meowed once and crawled up to lay on your stomach. You wondered how well Hux treated her since she was this docile. With some careful maneuvering, you were able to place your tray on your lap so that the cat didn’t have to move.

You dipped your spoon into the yogurt, watching the plastic disappear into the white, gelatinous mush. Whatever flavor it was, you expected it to be insipid and boring. You took a bite, and you could only describe the taste as watered-down vanilla. You wrinkled your nose and attempted to power through, knowing that you needed it to keep up your strength.

Millicent suddenly reached up with one paw and set it on your hand. You gave her a curious look, wondering what her next move would be. The tip of her tail flicked from side to side, and her eyes held a mischievous glimmer. As you lifted the spoon to your mouth, she sat up on her hind legs and leaned her muzzle towards the metal object.

“You can’t have this. This is my breakfast, Millicent,” you murmured to her. She cocked her head at the mention of her name. Your heart nearly melted when she began purring. The feline pushed her paw more insistently towards the spoon.

Before she could get near the yogurt, you quickly popped the instrument in your mouth. The cat’s leg fell, but her focus remained on your hand as you continued to eat. Suddenly, she thrust her paw forward, knocking the spoon upright and spilling some yogurt onto her nose. You laughed heartily as she scrambled off of your lap, letting out an ‘oof’ as her hind feet collided with your abdomen. Millicent growled and batted at her face with her paw, tossing her head to and fro as you cackled.

You were cut off as the sound of the door could be heard. Panic flared in your mind, and you wondered what had happened to that twenty minutes of solitude you had been promised.

“Director,” Hux’s salutation instantly eased your mind.

“Oh thank goodness,” you sighed, relieved. “I thought that I’d have to make up some excuse for the cat in my room.” The general smiled a little bit and stepped inside, quickly bending down to scoop up his pet.

“So, I’m guessing that you’re the one who brought her,” you grinned. Hux cleared his throat and faced you, hiding his amusement with a pair of unhinting eyes.

“I read that it is best for someone who is going through a period of grief or injury to be surrounded by people who care about them,” he replied. “I figured that if I couldn’t be here, then Millicent would be a good replacement.” He held out the cat for emphasis, and the poor creature was still trying to lick some of the yogurt off of her face. You looked up and met his gaze, still smiling. A warm feeling of gratitude welled up in your heart, and you felt compelled to test the waters of your attraction by expressing it.

“Thank you,” you smiled softly. “That’s very sweet of you.” You noticed the sudden rush of pink to his pale cheeks, and you hoped that it meant something more than he tried to let on.

“Well, you’ve been rather helpful, and I…” He stopped and took a breath. Seeing the general at a loss for words was truly a sight to behold. “Anything for a… friend.” The way he hesitated before he said ‘friend’ made you anxious, and you weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“So, how busy have you been during the last two weeks?” you asked before things got too awkward. Hux took a seat where he had the other day and began stroking Millicent’s fur. His brows drew together as he thought about what he would say in reply.

“The first week was absolute hell,” he grumbled. “Press releases, new speeches, recruitment efforts were _quadrupled_ , and I had mountains of paperwork regarding new orders for ships and weaponry. Without you to help deliver all the sensitive data, I was stuck parading around this damn base like a Mouse droid.” You took a moment to eat more of the bland food you had been given.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged. As you ate, the general continued to groan about the time you had been gone, and it felt rather endearing that he was venting about all his troubles to you, as you knew that he hated having to share his burdens with others.

“Captain Peavey has been sticking to me like glue for a while now, most likely trying to replace you,” he rolled his eyes. You bit into a cracker, considering that sentence for a moment.

“You _could_ just get a new assistant,” you pointed out, although you had grown so accustomed to your daily routine that changing it seemed unimaginable. The general turned his nose up with a scoff, cradling the now sleepy feline in his arms.

“I don’t want a new assistant,” he replied. “You’ll be out of here eventually, then we can go back to the way things used to be.” He then turned his eyes down to you, and you stopped chewing for a moment out of self-consciousness. You weren’t a slob, you just didn’t like it when people watched you eat. If you were out at dinner with anyone, you were always trying to make conversation just to avoid that weird silence.

“Director, after what happened on the Supremacy… I want to keep a much closer eye on you than before,” he suddenly seemed to get serious. You quirked a brow, resuming your task of eating while he unpacked what was bothering him. “You were so close to dying when I found you that I was afraid they couldn’t save you.”

 _Afraid?_ you repeated internally, surprised. Throughout all the time you had known him, he had never admitted fear before.

“But you’re alive,” he assured you of his collectedness. “I just wasn’t sure how I would react if you had been gone, so… If you don’t mind, I would like for you to accompany me more often than you used to.”

You were flattered and flustered and filled with some sort of relief. He had taken on that soft personality that you were seeing more and more of, which made the proposal even better. Beyond that, he had asked for your opinion on the matter, which you didn’t expect. When it came to your presence around him, he always ordered you to act according to his will. You chalked this sudden kindness up to your near-death experience.

“Of course,” You nodded to him. “It would be my pleasure. Besides, you still owe me that lunch that we talked about in the bridge.”

“But it wouldn’t be for victory—“

“I don’t care,” you cut him off. His brows raised, and you realized that he was probably _never_ interrupted. “Sorry. I just think it would be nice to have lunch. Maybe when I’m not eating yogurt and crackers, though.” You were glad that he began to laugh under his breath, considering that you had butted in while he was talking.

“That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” he grinned, just slightly. You shared a smile, and for a moment you forgot about the stiff mattress, the tasteless food, and the frigid air conditioning. Everything seemed like it would turn out alright.

“Good morning, Director,” the doctor announced his presence as the door slid open. Hux flinched, and you both looked down at Millicent. He nearly tossed the creature towards you, causing the cat to panic when she landed next to you on the bed. She skittered away and jumped over to Phasma’s part of the room, nestling under the hospital machinery.

The doctor was wheeling in a cart, thankfully facing backward as he pulled it. You hoped that Millicent was well-hidden enough that she wouldn’t be spotted.

“How was breakfast?” he asked. The question would go unanswered, as he jumped when he turned to look at your guest. “General Hux.”

“Doctor,” the commander nodded to him. The man swallowed hard and took his place to your left. He attempted to keep his composure as he took away your tray.

“We’ll be looking at your new leg today Director,” he said. “And we might have to put you to sleep so we can wake it up. It would be very painful if we kept you awake for the procedure.” He pulled out a scanner and pressed it to various points along your deadened limb. It sang little notes as it went up and down your skin, and the doctor nodded at each tone.

“Alright nurse, let’s hook up that anesthetic,” he motioned towards a woman who had entered the room at some point during his analysis. “General, this process may take a while because it has to circulate through her blood, so if you wish to leave you may.”

“I have no intention of leaving,” Hux replied, folding his arms. “My next meeting isn’t until this afternoon, and I want to know how my assistant’s recovery is going.” You were touched by the fact that he wanted to stay with you.

“Alright then,” the doctor mumbled nervously. It was obvious that Hux had a fair amount of respect, even in the medical wing. “Director, I’ll have the General keep you talking until you fall asleep so we can assure that you’re out.” It sounded like an excuse, as if the man was afraid of staying in the room with Hux for a prolonged period of time.

“Okay,” you responded obediently. The two worked around you, pressing buttons and replacing your IV bags. You didn’t feel particularly woozy yet, not even when they began to leave the room. The doctor murmured something to the general, to which he nodded, then he ushered the nurse out the door and down the hall.

There was silence as Hux stood, and that familiar, unpleasant buzzing feeling began to spread through your new shin. You wanted to experiment with a little bit of motion, so you tried to bend your knee. The action sent a shockwave of painful sparks through your leg, and you sucked in air through your teeth. The sudden surge frightened you to the point of near hyperventilation, and the fuzziness from the anesthesia began to form at the exact same time.

You had forgotten that the general was standing there until he grabbed onto your hand. Your head spun towards him, eyes wide as you took in his concerned features.

“Something to help steady you,” he told you as he interlaced your fingers. You could hardly register anything that was going on at the moment. He was holding your hand, his voice was very soft, and his eyes still reminded you of those special holiday candies. He made you feel safe.

“Thanks,” you barely uttered as you tried to calm yourself. Hux nodded and took a seat next to you on the bed, ever so carefully avoiding your legs.

“Tell me about yourself… to forget about the drugs,” he said, reaching up with his empty hand to take off his cap. You had to think of something interesting to say, seeing as your life outside of the military hadn’t exactly been a thrilling tale, and chose to elaborate on your home planet to distract from anything too personal.

“Chandrila is gorgeous. I grew up in this pretty house on the edges of Hanna City. My mom grew… pansies. Pansies and carnations,” you informed him, unable to hold back a yawn at the end. “What about you?” The general looked away, aiming his face downwards with a noticeably long breath.

“I don’t talk about my past.” His answer wasn’t angry or upset, but you still knew that was a touchy subject from his tone.

“Oh,” you mumbled, slowly releasing your hand from his. You figured you had ruined some sort of mood. “Sorry.” Hux held onto you even tighter than before, looking back up at you with an almost apologetic expression.

“It’s alright. Just keep talking, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded slowly. “Um… I went to engineering school with my friend Chance. He and I were best friends until he moved away and changed his major. He was kinda like you. He was hard to understand, but I knew that he was a really nice person.” Hux’s brows drew together for a brief second, then he softened and ran his thumb over the back of your hand. You felt your pulse quicken despite the drugs flowing through your body and you looked up into his eyes. He was looking over you as you began to drift off. You yawned again.

“Y’know, after this silly war’s over… I wanna start a farm. A nice farm out in the plains. And I’ll grow carrots and tomatoes and maybe I’ll start a tintolive grotto. Of course, I’ll still do engineering stuff, but I’ve already got a pension planned out from the Chandrilan government. What are you going to do?” you asked. He appeared to be at a loss for words. Hux took a while to respond, and his voice was a little fuzzy when he answered.

“Hopefully I’ll be helping to maintain order throughout the Galaxy.” He paused again. “Though I suppose that wouldn’t be such a bad idea either. A peaceful life where I’m no longer bothered by paperwork and grumpy Force-sensitive toddlers sounds like heaven.” You laughed weakly, and you gripped onto his hand a little more. You knew you would fall asleep soon.

“I think you need a break,” you told him. “You should take a vacation.”

“I can’t just take leave after all this. Besides, who would keep Kylo from wrecking this base while I’m gone?”

“Millicent.” You couldn’t help but giggle. Hux laughed, clearly trying to hold himself back. You smiled genuinely, extremely happy that you were able to make him laugh. Even more surprisingly, he kept smiling down at you. Sleep was staved off just a little bit more by all the excitement.

“You’re an odd one, Director,” he smirked.

“So are you, General,” you replied with a weak grin. Once again, a yawn coursed through you, and you felt sleep beginning to pull at your eyelids.

“Hey…” you nearly croaked. “What’s your name?”

“My name?” Hux inquired, seemingly bewildered. His smile faded into a look of confusion.

“I don’t know your first name,” you said, extremely groggy. “I won’t call you by it if you don’t want me to, I just wanna know.” Hux hesitated for a moment, even worked his lip between his teeth for a few seconds, then leaned down a little closer to you.

“It’s Armitage. Armitage Hux.”

“Armitage Hux,” you repeated. “I like that. It sounds really important, y’know? It’s a name that feels like it belongs in a history book.” You finally gave in and closed your eyes, hoping to continue the conversation while you rested them.

“Important?” asked the general. You could barely nod at this point, but you still made the effort.

“Yeah… Important… You’re important, just like your name… Important to me… And a lot of people…” With that, you drifted away and let your dreams take hold of you.

 

◑ ━━━━━━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━━━━━━ ◐

 

Hux knew that you were asleep by now, but he still kept holding onto your hand. The doctors and nurses most likely would not return until he left, so there was no reason why he shouldn’t. It felt like a risk that he normally would never take. Although at the same time it didn’t seem like he was being bold. It just felt right, like this was some part of him that he never knew he wanted until now.

He looked over your sleeping face, repeating the last thing that you had said to him over and over in his mind. _You’re important… You’re important… You’re important…_

“I’m important to you?” he inquired under his breath. Hux willed you to wake up and continue what you were saying. He wanted an explanation for why you said that and for what it meant. Despite his futile, telepathic efforts, you were still fast asleep and under the influence of the anesthesia.

He suddenly felt frustrated, seeing you in all this fancy medical gear and knowing that the healing process would take as much time as it did. Worst of all, he knew that it was all his fault. He could have prevented this. He should have stayed with you during the execution instead of leaving you with Phasma, who was still being patched up, herself. He looked at your face again, seeing all the innocence and blind trust that you put in him. _He_ was the cause of your current situation, and yet he was _important to you?_ Hux shook his head, unable to wrap his head around it.

But he clung to those words, for some reason or another. He didn’t understand why he was so allured by the idea of being important to you. However, there was an itch in the back of his mind, telling him that Phasma was right. He had been trying to remove that pestering voice for the last week and a half, refusing to believe her. But now that he was here, seeing just how much you really did care about him even though he was the reason you were stuck here, his resistance was becoming more and more feeble.

For a minute, he entertained the idea of being attracted to you. He certainly enjoyed your appearance — maybe it was because you weren’t as rugged as the battle-hardened women of the First Order — but that only seemed like a small part of it. You were always looking for ways to help, you never betrayed his trust, and you never appeared to be afraid of him. He could not deny that hearing you say that he was important caused his heart to beat faster.

What would it be like to be your partner? He had never really had romantic feelings for anyone before. Sure, every young man experiences a brief period of heartthrob every now and again, but he had never felt like _this_ before. He never felt cherished like you seemed to cherish his presence. He never felt _important._ He considered himself to be dutiful, if anything else, but he was a man who was always living in the present, so the emotional connotation of ‘important’ had hardly ever crossed his mind.

Then he considered what it would feel like to continue denying this voice. He had been attempting to hide that vague yearning by delving deep into his work. Could he continue to ignore that part of his mind, or would these thoughts eventually prevent him from working?

He growled and shook his head, looking away from you but never letting go of your hand.

 _Damn it, Phasma_ , he grumbled internally. _You were right._

He began to think about how you said his name. Throughout his life, only a few ever uttered it: his father, the men in his very first training squadron, and Captain Phasma when she was very cross with him. They all had an air of condescension or mocking when they said it, but your voice had been sweet. And you had described it as something that belonged in the history books.

The general got up to leave, hesitating to let go of you for a moment. As soon as he crossed to the door, it opened to reveal the returning Phasma. She scanned his form for a few seconds, then put on an undeniably smug grin that he had only ever seen a few times before.

“So, you’re finally getting what I meant,” she smirked. Hux was once again shocked by her deducing abilities, but was in no position to argue with her. He sighed and closed his eyes before brushing past her.

“Hush, Captain. You’ll wake her,” he mumbled.

“You can’t deny it, General,” the soldier said. “You know I’m right, I can see it in your face. You’re redder than the surface of Dathomir. What happened while you were in there?” The general stopped as the doctor and nurse from before came around a corner with a few other members of the medical staff. The group dipped their heads to the two commanders before ducking into the room he had just come from. Hux did not look at Phasma, but motioned for her to follow him. He could hear the faint sounds of her hospital slippers as they trekked to the nearest conference room, which had remained empty for most of the past two weeks. Nobody would disturb them here.

“Interesting,” Phasma remarked. “Showing your belly already? What happened to that whole arguing routine that you used to have?” Hux turned towards his friend with his arms crossed, drumming his fingers along his biceps. His lips were pulled slightly to the side as he thought.

“You’re acting like I’m supposed to admit defeat when there’s no victory to be had over me,” he retorted, remaining as level-headed as possible. Phasma brought up a hand and pushed her blond hair out of her eyes, revealing the calculating gleam that he was so familiar with.

“There’s plenty of victory,” she went on smiling. “The entertainment of watching you flounder is a great reward.” There was a silence that seemed to go on forever, allowing for Phasma to come up with another point of interest before he could say anything back.

“But it doesn’t matter if you accept the truth or not,” she continued with her chin tipped slightly upwards. “You need my help, don’t you?”

“As if you have more romantic experience than I do.”

“So you admit it?” Phasma’s hidden boastfulness was being proudly displayed, and Hux loathed that smug look on her face as much as he loathed the fact that she was the only person he could turn to about this sort of thing.

“No matter,” the soldier waved that bit of tension away and pressed on. “You want to see if there is a chance that she may feel the same, right?” Hux wasn’t exactly sure what he _wanted_ to do, but he knew that _something_ had to be done.

“I suppose,” he shrugged. The general began to pace around the room, searching his mind for some sort of starting point. The first step was out of the way, which was — somewhat — admitting attraction. But now what?

“Well, she’s certainly an inquisitive one,” Phasma muttered. “Not to mention she’s exceedingly patient if she’s working with you of all people.” Hux glared at her, picking up on the comedic jab with a frown.

“She would show up every day and give me your orders without any evidence of a complaint,” she persisted. “And you clearly trust her, considering that your precious cat was in her bed last night. You’re always hanging around her, and you’ve been worried sick about her health recently—”

“I don’t see why that has anything to do with my attraction to her.”

“General, it has _everything_ to do with your attraction to her,” Phasma groaned. “I’ve said it before and I’ll gladly say it again: you’re in love with her kindness. This isn’t some crush that will come to pass. This is real.”

“Are you some grand authority on romance?” Hux asked, finally standing still.

“I’ve read more dramatic novels in my lifetime than you’ve read history books,” she replied. “You’d be surprised how much free time I have when I’m not on an off-base mission.”

“A silly fictional story won’t give you any real knowledge.”

“And yet that fake knowledge is what you need right now.” Hux’s mouth opened for a brief moment, and he even took a step towards the woman, but he could find no words to fight back with. Instead, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes before returning to his previous calm position. He crossed his arms and waited a moment to see if any new points would come up. He found none.

“What do you suggest I do?” he managed to inquire without any malice in his tone. Phasma put her hand up to her chin as she considered his question. Hux could see the eagerness that she veiled with concentration in her lips, which were constantly trying to pull upwards into a grin.

“Why don’t you focus on your work for now? She won’t be able to do much until she’s in rehabilitation anyway,” she began, now deeply invested in this plan. “Try to clear up your schedule. While she’s getting used to her new leg, she’ll need someone to help guide her and get back to her usual routine. And who would be better than you? After all, she’s _your_ personal assistant.” Hux nodded absentmindedly, trying to think through the strategy like he would a military endeavor. It was much harder than it seemed at face value. Orders for soldiers and officers didn’t involve complex feelings that he was only beginning to truly understand.

“But what would further our interactions beyond the typical work schedule?” he wondered aloud. “She’s healing and I’m terribly busy most of the time, so I can’t work out any sort of plan regarding times for visiting—”

“You’re overthinking it,” Phasma rolled her eyes. The general’s jaw tightened at that snide facial gesture.

“What are you talking about?”

“Just talk to her,” instructed the captain. “You don’t need to make everything tactical. Just seize the moment as it comes and get to know her more.” Hux let her words sink in, attempting to make sense of her bizarre phrasing.

“You also need to relax,” she commented offhandedly. “Stop being a general and start being a _person_ around her.” Now she had officially lost him.

 _That makes absolutely no sense,_ he grumbled in his mind. _I can’t just_ not _be a general. It’s a title, not a separate entity._

Phasma quirked an unimpressed brow and mimicked his crossed arms, tapping her foot to get his attention again. He obliged and brought his gaze back to her, albeit slowly and without joy.

“Let me put it this way...” she sighed. “You were focused far too much on making her act like you. Your discipline training was useful when it came to basic military procedures, I’ll give you that, but you can’t expect me to believe that you want her to continue being so dull.”

 _“Dull?”_ Hux asked with bewilderment. “She’s not dull at all, that’s just what’s on the surface. As soon as she’s done with her work she’s very chipper.”

“Chipper?”

“That’s the very basic description I would give for her, yes,” the general nodded. Phasma paused for a moment before using her hand to give him a ‘go on’ motion. Hux looked up towards the ceiling for inspiration, for some illustration of your full personality.

“She’s kind, as you said, Captain,” he started as he took a seat in one of the vacant chairs. “Every time that she speaks, it sounds like more of a request than a command. No amount of training can get rid of that. She’s… good-spirited for lack of a better word.” The soldier continued to stare at him, and soon the silence extended too long for comfort. Hux cleared his throat, willing her to speak her mind.

“I think I should get back to bed,” Phasma simply stated. “And you should get back to work.”

“But Captain—“

“Think about what I said.”

The door opened, then shut. Quiet filled the space, jockeying with the overly bright lights for the most unsettling thing in the room.


	10. Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally back from vacation and I'm ready to post again! I hope you all enjoy, and thanks for sticking with me!

After the doctors had woken up your leg, you had been resting in your hospital bed for two straight days. Most movements caused your limbs to feel like they were buzzing, just as they had before, but now it was only a lingering sensation. Nurses had to assist you when getting to the bathroom or showers, but they were very calm and respectful during the whole process so you didn’t feel too much shame. Thankfully, Hux had left Millicent to your care, and you developed a plan to hide her in a large, empty cabinet if anyone showed up. The metal cupboard was close to the floor, but within arm’s reach, so it was not too much of a strain to set her in there.

The morning you woke up from your second dose of anesthesia, Hux had brought you a new datapad and a small workstation that could be attached to your bed frame, upon your request. He had asked you why you needed it, considering that your files had undoubtedly been lost during the attack on the Supremacy. You told him that you had to keep your hands and mind busy, or you’d probably go stir crazy. As a creative soul, it was easy for you to get bored if you had no outlet for all your energy.

Today, you were waiting for the doctors to begin your rehabilitation program, situated in a comfortable position and using your digital pen to draw the lines for a kitchen unit in a project that you had started. You were making blueprints for a quaint yet accommodating farmhouse, which you had always wanted to build ever since you started your engineering firm. It was your dream home that you desired on Chalacta, surrounded by fruit trees and vegetable gardens. With each new detail, you could envision what it would be like to live there every day.

While you had been working on the schematics, you kept noticing that Phasma was sneaking looks at you, ranging from glances to outright stares. You wanted to ask why she was doing that, but decided it was best to leave her be. She was a mysterious woman, and was probably not even looking at you, specifically. You shifted your gaze to the right and saw a painting that you reasoned was the object she must have been fixated on.

The sound of an approaching ship could be heard outside, and your heart fluttered for a brief second. There had only been one transport that had left the base in the last twenty-four hours, so that could only mean one thing: the general had returned from his mission. Hux had been out checking on the planet’s mining facilities for the last day, making sure that they were all working at their best capacity, what types of crystals they could export, et cetera. He had been gone all day and he must have been exhausted by now.

“Eager to see him?” Phasma asked, looking up from her book once again in favor of you. Your head jerked towards her, lips pursed in shock. “Oh, don’t look so surprised.”

“What do you mean?” you nearly interjected. “See who?” The captain bookmarked her page and shut the novel. She furrowed her brows and turned her entire body to face you, swinging her legs over the side of the bed so she could sit on the edge.

“Director, I’ve trained countless men to become the most elite soldiers in the galaxy, and that means I’ve been studying behavior patterns for a long time,” she deadpanned. “I know when someone is playing dumb. You’re anxious to see the general.” You were instantly flustered, and you had to focus extremely hard on keeping your facial expression in check. Despite your efforts, you knew that your brows and lips were twitching.

“I don’t… I’m not playing…” You trailed off when you caught her acidic glare. With a shrug and a sigh, you set your pen down, figuring that you might as well just say what you wanted. “Yeah, I’m excited to see General Hux. Why shouldn’t I be? He’s my friend.” You noticed a tiny smile blink onto Phasma’s face, but it was gone as soon as it arrived.

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you again too,” she replied. Phasma crossed her arms and closed her eyes in some form of smugness. “He sure enjoys your company, doesn’t he?”

“I hope so,” you shrugged. “But I doubt that he’d call me his friend for nothing.” The soldier smirked with a faint yet genuine kindness.

“I’ve known him for many years. He’s not the friendly type,” said Phasma. “You’ve caught his attention, Director.” Your pulse quickened at her words, wondering what the connotation behind “attention” was. In your mind, you knew that it most likely meant that he respected you, but in your heart, you liked to think it meant a possible sharing of feelings.

“I guess I have,” you chuckled. “I still can’t believe he’s done so much for me. I mean, he didn’t even know me when he started training me.” Phasma crossed her legs with a slightly wider smile, giving her the appearance of relaxed complacency. It was comforting to see her so relaxed, opposed to the rigid soldier that she usually was.

“Don’t you think that could mean something?” she asked, a hint of coyness in her tone. You could no longer maintain your composure as your face grew hot with embarrassment.

“What do you mean?” you nearly stumbled. The captain shook her head and met your eye, playfulness glowing in her expression.

“I’m not one for gossip, Director, but seeing as I’ve been stuck here for the last two weeks I have had nothing to do but read, take walks, and observe Hux when he visits you,” she began with a slight tilt of the head. “Now, you didn’t hear this from me, understand?” You nodded briskly, eager to hear whatever she had to say, no matter the consequences.

“I believe that he might be interested in you in a less… professional way,” she went on. You could have sworn that your heart was about to burst right out of your chest. It was as if you were back in school and whispering information about crushes to one another. A part of you felt foolish for feeling like such a child, but another part didn’t care.

“You really think so?” you wondered. Phasma nodded, then brought up a hand to point at you.

“But not a word to anyone about it,” she warned, brows dipping for a moment.

“Of course,” you nodded again. “I won’t tell anyone.” The fact that she was sharing this information with you made you excited not only for the prospect of Hux’s possible affections, but because that was something only a friend would do. Unless she was lying, which she could very well be, but what did she have to gain from doing that?

“And I’ve seen the way you look at him,” Phasma muttered as she returned to her previous position on her bed. You felt cold fear rocket into your stomach. If the soldier had noticed, there was no doubt that others could have as well.

“Are the feelings mutual?” the captain pressed on. Your hands clenched into fists as you struggled to maintain eye contact. “Apologies, perhaps this conversation is not the most appropriate.”

“No no, it’s just…” You paused to question why you had said anything at all. This really  _was_ inappropriate to talk about, especially considering that you were gossiping about your boss’s potential love life.

“You won’t tell _him_ , will you?” you asked shyly. “I don’t wanna get in trouble.” Phasma let out a sigh that almost sounded like a groan.

“Director, watching the two of you tiptoeing around a relationship is the most entertaining thing in this kriffing base,” she replied. “If I were to intervene directly, then I’d be bored out of my skull.”

You felt as if the world was only a dream. The normally silent decorum that Phasma carried with her had nearly evaporated, and now you had been roped into this bizarre yet not unwelcome conversation. Hux couldn’t possibly feel the same, it was irrational and far too rushed.

As if there was nothing more to discuss, the soldier picked her book up again and returned seamlessly to her statuesque reading position. Your tongue burned with more questions, but your nerves kept you from asking them. With a knotted stomach and a fluttering heart, you tried to relax and get back to work. You reached out and picked up your pen, but found no desire to continue your project.

“But—” Phasma suddenly added, startling you. “—keeping these feelings to yourself might not be healthy. For _either_ of you. Think about it.” Without looking at her, you nodded.

  


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Hux’s boots hit the floor of the hangar, giving him a feeling of satisfaction. The crystal caves had been unbearably freezing over the last day, and he was glad to be back inside the warm base. Officers who had gone with him filed out of the shuttle behind him, murmuring to each other as they went off their separate ways. The general stayed behind for a moment, surveying the scene with a watchful eye. The ore on Hays Minor was incredibly valuable, and therefore he needed to be very mindful of smugglers. Thankfully, the only people who were handling the cases of crystals were the engineers who had been assigned to the mission.

 _Speaking of engineers…_ he thought, turning towards the hallway that led to the medical wing. _I should check on her condition._ He walked about ten steps before the annoyingly familiar face of Captain Peavey appeared in front of him.

“What is it, Captain?” he asked, forcing back any physical signs of irritation. Peavey took another agonizing moment to salute to him.

“Sir, Supreme Leader Kylo has requested your presence in the grand hall,” he reported. In order to stave off further interaction, Hux immediately set off in the direction he had been given. Normally, he would have been pissed to have to go see Ren after an already stressful day, but Peavey was such an annoyance that he put that anger aside in order to escape him.

“Secure the remaining cargo,” he called to his subordinate, although he didn’t look back. The general’s mood was immediately soured, but he was resolved to remain as professional as possible in front of the Supreme Leader, if only to show him that his change in rank did not bother him. Or, at least it didn’t bother him on the outside. Truly, whenever he was reminded of that brat’s new position, he would turn into a fuming mess internally.

 _What does he want now?_ he snapped in his head. _I bet he needs me to do more of his work. Damn simpleton._

Hux adjusted the sleeves of his greatcoat, making sure that his rank insignia was proudly displayed as he passed by the other commanders in the halls. He could no longer compare himself to Kylo in terms of status, but he could at least appear as though he was important enough to be able to meet with the most powerful man in the First Order, which he was. That idiot still needed him to be the diplomatic leader within his forces, and clearly had a better time puppeteering the general instead of futilely attempting to make peaceable trade agreements with other planets on his own.

As Hux approached the doors to the grand hall, he studied the golden engravings of many leaders and their apprentices. The glimmering entrance was not suitable for such a brooding leader as Kylo Ren. He refused to take up traditions and follow in his master’s footsteps when it came to appearances, still keeping that black, charred uniform and cloak that Hux detested.

He stood in front of the double doors, waiting for Kylo to let him in. The former Knight of Ren was able to sense his presence through the Force, and therefore could also allow him entrance upon his approach. Hux knew that he was purposefully taunting him by keeping him out there for so long, but could see no sign of it when the doors finally opened. The black-haired nuisance was seated on Snoke’s throne, perfectly symmetrical in sitting posture, but his jagged scar threw off his balance.

The room was entirely made of pristine, cream-colored stone and windows that showed the icy plains beyond. Banners hung from the walls, adorned with golden First Order insignias. Above the center of the room, a platform was raised to hold the seat on which Kylo was rested. It had hardly ever been used by Snoke, but every capital base had a throne for the Supreme Leader. High above the banners was a hemispherical ceiling, painted with the constellations that passed over the planet each night.

“Supreme Leader,” Hux addressed him with a salute.

“General Hux,” the Knight greeted him in return. He moved his hand and gestured for the commander to enter, to which Hux complied immediately. He had nearly met his demise once at that fateful hand, and he did not want to feel that suffocating hold again.

“What is the purpose of your summons, my Lord?” he inquired, standing rigidly at the base of the marble dais. The doors shut, leaving him trapped in the lion’s den.

“I am changing tactics, General,” Kylo began, shifting slightly to prop up an elbow. He rested his chin on his gloved hand, leering at the man below him. “We must find the girl who slaughtered Snoke and bring her to justice. She must be killed.”

“Sir, we are already searching the entire galaxy for the Resistance—” He was silenced by the invisible hand that Kylo reached out with. Hux panicked, although he did not show his fear, and waited to be asphyxiated. There was nothing more.

“Send all trainees on scouting missions immediately, no matter how inexperienced,” the Knight went on, never hinting at any anger. “And bring me the best bounty hunters in the Outer Rim. I want her brought back to me _alive_.” Hux’s brows dipped in immediate protest, and he even took a bold step forward.

“Sir, our resources are dwindling as they are,” he tried not to snap. “The planets in the Outer Rim are already sending us all that they can in terms of new labor and soldiers just so that we can rebuild enough to stand a chance against the Resistance. We lost _all_ of our main ships, sir. If we try to search for her now there will be no fleet to back us up once we find her and the other rebels.”

“You dare defy me?” the Supreme Leader asked. The raven-haired man’s lips were curled in an audacious smile, and Hux loathed that he was amused by this crucial information.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t defy you. I am merely advising you on the best course of action.” The general set his jaw and held his ground, despite wanting nothing more than to tell him exactly how he felt about his idiotic and frivolous proposal.

“I do not need your advisory,” the Knight chuckled. The simple statement coupled with the laughter made Hux’s blood boil. How could he not understand that these orders had catastrophic consequences?

“If the Resistance has been able to scramble away and find more allies, we must be able to muster enough firepower to stand a chance,” Hux reasoned with him, feeling his hands turning white as he clenched his fists.

“There will be time for that,” Kylo rolled his eyes. The general couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose at the childish action. “Right now, we must avenge our fallen leader.” Hux lost his level-headedness, and in a flash of fury, he took a brave step forward, pointing a finger up at the Supreme Leader like a parent scolding a toddler.

“Ren, you _must_ listen to me,” he barked. “We are vulnerable to even the slightest of attacks! One more slip-up and we’re doomed! You have to stop obsessing over that Jedi and take up your place as our leader!”

“There’s that old spark that you used to have when we argued,” Kylo smiled. He was enjoying this. Of course the bastard was getting a kick out of his frustration. The commander snarled up at him, eyes wild with all the words he had wished to say for so long. Now that he was given an opportunity, he refused to hold back.

“If you want to chase after that woman, then you should go off in your little ship like always and leave someone else to actually take responsibility!” yelled the general. Ren’s brow twitched, making it clear that he was struggling to keep up this mocking appearance. After all, Hux was attacking him with facts, and all he had to defend himself with were infantile retorts.

“Jealousy is unbecoming of you,” the cloaked figure huffed casually.

“Jealousy!” Hux repeated with an incredulous tone. He laughed once, still glaring at his superior. “Why should I be jealous of you? You’ve just told me to abandon the safe approach of rebuilding our forces in exchange for a wild goose chase across the galaxy! You’re insane!”

He had expected something like this to happen. Kylo had been going on and on about that girl who he had claimed to have killed Snoke, and had made it a very clear goal of his to seek her out at all costs. Up to this point, he had been patient enough to put the good of the First Order first. However, the black-cloaked Knight had always been prone to becoming easily frustrated when he was unable to fulfill whatever inane desires he possessed.

The General was more upset with the effect of this action, however. Snoke had spent so long building his ranks to what they were now, and suddenly Ren wished to corrupt everything his master had created. Despite the previous Supreme Leader’s constant talk of balance, it was painfully clear that Kylo was more focused on his own selfish gains, and would gladly throw out his teacher’s lessons if it meant he could gain whatever it was he sought.

“You will do as I say,” said his superior. “And I want it done immediately.”

“Damnit, _listen to me_ —!”

“Are we clear, General?” Kylo asked, outstretching his actual arm this time. His fingers flexed, and Hux’s mind suddenly went blank as the Force took hold of him. He felt as though his body was nowhere, and nothing but his orders meant anything. He was to find the girl and bring her back alive. Find the girl. Bring her back alive.

He nodded to his Supreme Leader.

The entirety of his body lurched as his psyche was released. As soon as he was balanced again, he bowed to Kylo, then turned around and swiftly exited without a word. Whether or not he was doing so if his own accord was unknown, but he ignored that thought for now. He had an objective, and he was going to carry it out.

Just a few minutes ago, he had tried to avoid Peavey’s presence entirely, but now he needed to inform him of the new changes to their operations. During your absence, the annoying man had filled your position for getting news and orders around the base, and now he needed him more than ever.

He pulled out his datapad and headed for the central hub of the building, typing out a message to the captain. Hux passed by the medical wing and thought nothing of it, as if it didn’t even exist.

Once he entered the command center, the officers stood and saluted him. He waved them off and they returned to their work. Peavey was already standing there, rigid and breathing in a labored fashion. He had obviously run there the moment he received the communication.

“Captain Peavey, prepare a message for the new trainees,” he commanded, pointing towards the control panel in the front of the room. The commander nodded and briskly got to work.

“What should I tell them, sir?” he asked the general. Hux clasped his hands behind his back and opened his mouth to speak, but for a moment nothing came out.

“Tell them…” He blinked rapidly, although his vision was not blurry. It was difficult for him to fully understand, but his will had been released. It was as if he had been under a sheet, which was suddenly pulled off of him in order to let him think clearly again. Just like all victims of the will-bending powers of the Force, he did not know how he had gotten to that position. He remembered his orders, however, and frowned at the thought of them. The memory of Ren returned to him, and he knew that he had attempted to manipulate him, causing his blood to boil.

“Tell them that all resources must be delivered to Hays Minor twice as fast, by order of the Supreme Leader,” he barked. Peavey began to type out the relay, and Hux’s heart rate skyrocketed. He had just disobeyed a direct order, even one that was forced upon his mind.

 _Either I’m less vulnerable to the Force than I thought, or he’s getting rusty without Snoke to guide him_ , he told himself. _But that doesn’t matter. I have to cover my tracks._

“Captain,” he muttered, beckoning the officer to his side. The man practically leapt over to him like a dog awaiting commands from its master. “The Supreme Leader has grown weary of the business of rebuilding and wants this dispatch to be of the utmost importance. His orders are for this to be his last message on this topic, and that we are no longer going to bother him with such trivial matters. I will be assuming direct control over all recovery efforts from now on.”

“Yessir,” Peavey nodded.

“And keep this between you and me,” Hux added, looking around the room to make sure nobody would hear. “You’re the only person I can trust with these communications. Too many smuggling officers trying to dwindle our resources for a few measly credits.” The captain beside him was almost glowing.

“Of course, sir,” he mumbled. “Thank you, sir.” Hux gave him a small nod, then began to leave the room. He nearly broke into a run, as his heart and mind were panicking over what just transpired. In just a few short minutes he had doomed himself to quite a few sleepless nights. He _never_ disobeyed, not even when it came to Kylo, but this was just so unbelievably ill-considered that he simply had to take things into his own hands. He considered the possibility that the mere shock of almost giving out such witless orders might have woken him up from the Force-induced daze he had been put under.

As the general went out into the hallway, he saw the doctor that had been taking care of you and Phasma as he made his way over to a nearby room. Hux looked at the sign above the door, which read “Rehabilitation”.

 _She’s already in rehab?_ he asked himself. The general quickly stepped forward, happy to have found a distraction. He had planned to see you as soon as possible, anyway.

“Doctor,” he called out. The man in the pristine white coat turned, eyes landing on him in that same terrified fashion that he had seen many times before. “Is the Director in there?”

“Yes, General,” the doctor nearly mumbled. “I was just on my way to get her a bottle of water. Are you here to… Would you like to visit her?” Hux nodded silently and waited for him to open the door. The man’s keycard was out in an instant, as if he was afraid that the commander might kill him if he didn’t unlock it immediately.

“She’s just doing some basic walking today,” he informed the general. “You’re welcome to observe, if you’d like. Or you could perhaps walk with her, if she thinks she’s ready for that. I can’t promise that she won’t stumble.” Hux’s pulse jumped, and he replied before he could even think about it.

“I’ll walk with her.” He followed the doctor into a large hall, eager to see you. In the center of a large track, you were standing and leaning against a somewhat familiar nurse. You were no longer wearing your hospital gown, but rather a comfortable outfit consisting of grey sweatpants, a plain white tee, and a pair of sneakers. Your eyes sparkled once they landed on the general, and you smiled brightly.

“Welcome back,” you beamed. Hux gave you a nod and a smile that was just visible enough for a greeting, but he kept it hidden from the medical staff.

“How are you feeling, Director?” he asked as he approached you.

“Better, now that I’m standing. Learning to walk again is kinda weird, though,” you replied. The woman at your side helped you turn towards him.

“She’s only been on the track for about ten minutes but we’ve already gotten two laps in,” the nurse said. “That’s quite remarkable for someone who’s just starting to walk again.”

“You’re a fast healer, Director,” the doctor noted as he took out an odd stethoscope of sorts. He knelt down and pressed the metal of the device to your new thigh, then he pressed a button that made it glow red. After a few short beeps, he trailed downwards towards your knee.

“Her muscles are almost completely patched up,” the man continued as he pressed the tool to various other spots. Then, he stood, and he put on a grin filled with an emotion that Hux could not describe in words. His eyes became hooded as he looked over your form again. “You’re a strong, healthy woman, Director. Nurse, I’ll take her if you’d like to go ahead and start your break. I’ll catch up in a few minutes, she just needs a few more laps. Oh, and General, you can sit and wait to walk with her until after she’s finished them, if you wish.”

The doctor’s tone was disturbing to the general. It was too syrupy for his tastes, and certainly not professional enough to be used around someone of your rank. Plus, when he had regarded the general, he had simply waved him away without meeting his eyes once. His gaze was roaming over your vulnerable form like a fox. Hux took a step forward and cleared his throat, eyes fixating on the hands that were moving towards your upper arms. The man’s head swiveled towards him, and Hux was thankful that there was some fear in his expression.

“Just a few more laps?” he asked the doctor. He remembered what Phasma had told him before he had left on his mission.

_While she’s getting used to her new leg, she’ll need someone to help guide her and get back to her usual routine. And who would be better than you?_

“I can walk with her, doctor,” he went on, phrasing it as more of a command than a statement. “There are very important things that I must discuss with _my assistant_ anyway.” The doctor’s eyes darted towards you, then back to the general. His face flushed and he retracted his arms.

“Nurse, leave her to his care,” he mumbled as he began to retreat. Hux might have scoffed at his meek nature if he wasn’t so reserved. The woman stepped forward and placed his hands where they needed to go in order to support you properly. She then thanked him for helping you get back into the swing of things and left the rehab hall.

“You don’t have to,” you said, smiling sympathetically. Hux tipped his nose up and adjusted his hold on your arm.

“Of course I do,” he assured you. “I am responsible for your well-being, as your mentor.” You quirked a brow and smiled, taking your first steps. Hux felt a pleasant emotion as you held tightly to him.

“But you have to be exhausted after your mission,” you went on. “You look tired, no offense. Maybe you should lie down once we’re done here.” The general’s happiness began to dwindle as he remembered why he had searched for a distraction such as this.

“Certainly not too tired to spend some time with a friend,” he replied, trying to ignore the growing uneasiness. “I ought to show you some of the photos that our scouting team took in the crystal mines. They’re fascinating.”

“I bet,” you nodded excitedly. “I wish I could have gone. But I can’t exactly do much while I’m stuck in the medical wing.” Hux’s throat tightened as he realized that you might be left defenseless if the Resistance ever tried to attack the base. That thought led to how Kylo wanted to leave them so open to an offensive, and how he refused to obey those commands.

“Is something wrong?” you quietly asked. Hux worked his lip between his teeth as he tried to think of something to say. His frustration and terror of what was to come prevented him from appearing as calm as possible, so he figured that he should be honest with you.

“Yes,” he bluntly responded. A long silence ensued as the two of you rounded a corner on the track. Your hand fidgeted a little, as if you were trying to drum your fingers against his bicep.

“You know you can tell me, right? We’re friends.” Your voice was timid, yet you were as sincere as ever.

“Director, I want nothing more than to tell you,” he answered truthfully. He put his free hand on yours, securing you to his side. It felt like he was protecting you somehow, by simply holding your hand.

“And I feel like I need to…” he continued, voice almost going hoarse. His doubtful mind caused him to deliberate for a moment. He stopped, causing you to stop as well.

“Sir?” you muttered. Hux swallowed hard and turned to face you, and he hoped that he wasn’t revealing any weakness in his facial expression.

“I disobeyed an order,” he managed to push out, albeit softly. “I can’t let him… The Supreme Leader, he’s just… If we let our guard down we’ll never be able to achieve our goal.”

“What do you mean?”

“Kylo is reckless,” the general nearly interrupted you. “He wanted to put all of our efforts into finding that damn girl. I was instructed to have all trainees move to scouting missions immediately, and instead, I demanded that all resources be collected faster from those who are being trained as laborers. It was the most rational thing to do, and I acted on impulse and now…” He has to pause, unable to find any points that continued his explanation.

“Director, I’m not sure what happens now,” he concluded. At that moment, you stumbled and tilted forward. Hux reacted swiftly and caught you so that you landed against his chest.

“Sorry!” you fretted as you tried to right yourself. “I didn’t mean to!”

“It’s alright,” mumbled the general as he put out an arm so you could stand up easier. You struggled to realign your leg, obviously proving very difficult for you. Hux decided that he could not stand watching you futilely shuffle around anymore, and he picked you up in a hug that lifted you off your feet. He waited a few seconds before setting you back down again, and was glad to see that you were balanced once more.

“Thanks,” you muttered into his shoulder. Hux could not find any words to reply. You were warm in his arms, and the feeling of embracing you made him surprisingly happy.

 _I can’t remember the last time I’ve hugged someone_. It was more of an odd thought than a sad one, to him. He continued to hold you, and he was grateful that you made no efforts to escape.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he accidentally said out loud.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone,” you whispered. Hux’s heart thumped rapidly due to your close proximity.

“I know that you won’t. That’s not the problem.” The general leaned back a little and let his hands glide down near your elbows. “You’re in danger again because of my decisions.”

Something within his mind broke, horrified by his own words.

“When Kylo finds out, I won’t be able to protect you from him _or_ the Resistance. He knows that you’re important to me. He’ll come after you, I know he will.” Your eyes were filled with shock and fear, but his mouth continued on with his disparaging words. “That’s what he does, Director. Every time that I surpassed him before Snoke was killed, he would try to take that glory away from me. He’s a child.”

You continued to stare with disbelief and terror, eyes wide and fingers gripping at the edges of his greatcoat. Hux chastised himself for making you as scared as you were now.

“I don’t know why I acted so quickly,” he sighed, defeated. “I should have thought this through—“

“Hey,” you stopped him. He stopped and took a good look at you again. There was still that underlying haze of fear in your eyes, but now your features were set with determination and caring.

“You can’t change what happened,” you continued, pausing a moment for a deep breath. “Everything you do now is up to you, though, and I know you can make things better. You always do.” The general was dumbfounded, unable to fathom why you were being so optimistic.

“How can you do that?” he asked, puzzled.

“Do what?” you inquired in reply. Hux let go of you and removed his hat and gloves before placing them on a nearby bench.

“I don’t understand how you can just… expect that everything will be alright.” He made vague gesticulations to show how much your positive outlook confused him.

“I know everything will be alright because you’re the one in charge,” you told him. “I don’t care if you made one mistake, you’re still the general and you’re still the most reliable person I know. You always patch things up.” The flattery made his heart skip a beat, and he felt the need to stare at you for a few moments. He was captivated by your eyes and the compassionate gaze that you held in them. You shifted your weight and looked to the floor, causing Hux to snap out of it. He cleared his throat and stepped towards you again, holding out his arm for you to steady yourself if needed. You made no moves, although your legs were slightly shaky.

“I still haven’t thanked you properly for fixing my lip on our way to the Supremacy,” he said as he put his hands behind his back. The blush that appeared on your cheeks gave him a feeling of momentary pride.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you murmured bashfully.

“It’s not,” Hux added as he took another step forward. “Nobody has ever done that for me. Well… at least not like you did. No one’s ever healed me because they were concerned about my health.” A look of confusion crossed over your features.

“What does that mean?”

“I’ve gotten my fair share of injuries on the battlefield, and every medic on this ship who has treated me has done so because they’re afraid they’ll be killed if they won’t.” Your bewilderment disappeared, and your cheeks lost a little bit of their previous color as you clearly struggled to keep your expression neutral.

“I’m sure they don’t think—”

“I’m not an idiot, Director,” he halted you with a deep sigh. “I know fear when I see it, because every single one of my subordinates looks at me the same way. They do their job out of survival. I do mine because the galaxy needs order. But you? You seem to do it because you care.” You nodded, and the general squinted at the floor out of puzzlement.

“Why do you care so much?” he inquired. You took a while to answer his question, and it looked as though you were having trouble phrasing it.

“Back home, I was always told that loving my job was the most important part of it. If I didn’t love my job, then I’d be miserable until I retired. It’s a little different with this job, but at least I know that there’s nothing to be scared of. You’re _nothing_ like what I thought the First Order would be like. I thought that they’d just kick me to the curb because I had no military experience, but you helped me out, gave me a better chance than anyone else on this ship would. Phasma wouldn’t do this for me, Kylo _definitely_ wouldn’t do it, but you _did_ , and I guess I’m just trying to repay the favor.”

Despite his previous denials, Hux realized just how long Phasma had been right in her assumptions. All this time he had been deluding himself, attempting to hide his emotions under the ruse of mentorship. He looked at you now, still just as outgoing as the day he had met you, but you were closer to him than ever before.

“It isn’t usually like that,” he muttered. “But you…” As a bold move, he took your hands in his. Your palms and fingers were soft, unlike his which he knew were calloused and rough after years of training and fighting.

“You’re different,” he continued with a shy tone. He tried to speak louder and avoid looking as sheepish as he really was, but he had _never_ been in a position like this before. “Throughout your time here you’ve been very…” He had to pause once again and consider what he was going to say next.

“You’ve done so much for me,” he concluded.

“Oh!” you flinched, smiling wide and face going red. “Thank you, sir. I’ve really enjoyed working with you—”

“You misunderstand me. I don’t mean in a professional way. You’re very… extraordinary. You’re kind, sweet, hardworking, creative, intelligent…” He couldn’t go on, finding the embarrassment too intense to bear any longer. Hux was a man who had minimal experience when it came to love — or even close bonds of friendship — so he wasn’t exactly sure what to say next. He knew, however, that this felt right. Being there with you was the most fulfilling thing he had done all day. He cleared his throat, hoping to push down the obvious flush in his cheeks.

The time seemed right to voice what he had come to understand about his desires. The question was: How? How was he supposed to say what he wanted to? He wasn’t some hero from Phasma’s romantic novels, he was completely unacquainted in this regard and was, for once, at a total loss for words.

“And I know that I can come off as more than a bit harsh…” he trailed off, already worried that he was going to mess up. “...but I just wanted to say that you mean so much to me… as more than just friendship allows.”

“Armitage…” you whispered, eyes wide and glittering. The very mention of his name made his heart leap. He loved the way you said it. Your voice was delicate, amazed, dare he say almost reverent.

“Are you asking me if I want to be in a relationship with you?” you asked timorously. He wished that he could have just said that, instead of tiptoeing around what he really meant, like usual, but thankfully you were able to understand his flustered ramblings. He couldn’t help but blush and keep his eyes trained on the ground below.

“To put it bluntly, yes,” he nodded. “Although, I’m not as, well… _experienced_ as most other people when it comes to romance. I suppose this is the only way I can express my intentions.” You laughed, light and airy. He feared that you were mocking him.

“Don’t worry about that,” you said as you quieted down again. Your shoulders lifted as you also gained a deeper shade of pink in your face.

“I’d like to take you up on that offer,” you beamed shyly.

Hux smiled back at you with a chipper quality that not even he knew he could possess. His heart pounded and his nerves were almost getting the better of him, but he was truly happy. The general squeezed your hands and gazed at you, filled with a sense of adoration.

 _She’s my partner now_ , he thought to himself. The notion gave him a boost of confidence and invigoration. He nearly forgot about his ordeal with the Supreme Leader as you began to walk again. The two of you were now joined practically at the hip, and you were holding onto his arm with an equally joyful expression.

He couldn’t wait to see the look on Phasma’s face.


	11. The Captain's Envy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't believe I've surpassed ten chapters of this story! I'm so thankful that a lot of people like my writing. It gives me a massive boost of inspiration for doing more chapters when I read the comments!

Rehabilitation took a little while longer than the doctors had expected, despite how much they praised you for being a quick healer. It had been six days since the first time you had walked on your new leg, and six days since you had become officially involved with the general. Hux had helped you with the whole process of rehab when he had time, and gradually walking became easier and easier. For the last three days you had tried making your rounds in the base using a cane, but half the time your open arm was being held by the commander. It was his way of being able to show his affections in public, you supposed. He was rather strict about keeping your affiliation with him in your private life and to maintain your normal professionalism when in the presence of others.

As time passed, Phasma was released from the medical bay and returned to her duties, leaving only Millicent to keep you company. The cat was adorable, soft, and sweet, but wasn’t much for conversation. When the woman left your shared room, the space seemed to be filled with a stifling quiet. However, you also reminded yourself that she was always silent anyway because she was typically reading while she was still subjected to bedrest.

With Phasma gone, most of your days were filled with nothing but working on design projects and playing with Millicent. That is, until Hux had some time alone with you. He wasn’t exactly the most positive person in the world, you had known that for a while now, but now he always seemed on edge, like Kylo would come for him any minute. Of course, he tried to keep his fears a secret by hiding them under a seasoned, blank expression. You could see right through it, however, and took pride in being able to get him to talk about what was bothering him. He seemed grateful for this closure that you allowed him, more often keeping his thankfulness silent than voicing it.

It was a relatively quiet morning in the base, and you were apparently one of the first people awake since you didn’t see that many officers or soldiers walking through the halls. You had received a new uniform to start wearing again, thankfully a little warmer than your hospital gown. You held your cane in your dominant hand, never using it as a crutch as you attempted to find your way to some room with a window. Hux had told you about the brilliant sunrises that he had seen while on his mission about a week ago, and you wanted to get a glimpse before you had to return to your bed. You passed by several conference rooms and knew that they would never have windows in places that were used for sharing some of the most confidential information in the galaxy. You found a lounge a little further away, but when you poked your head in there was nothing but blank walls and a few empty tables.

A couple of murmuring lieutenants passed you, and for a moment you watched them out of the corner of your eye. They approached the door to the command center as a huddled mass, whispering to each other until someone finally used their keycard.

 _There’s gotta be a window in there_ , you reasoned with yourself as you moved to follow them. Once you reached the entrance, you produced your own card and unlocked it. A few people who you recognized from the bridge on the Supremacy looked up in shock as you walked in. Some of them nodded to you respectfully or mumbled “Director” under their breath. You looked towards the furthest wall and saw that there were massive windows that revealed the vast, white landscape beyond. The light that streamed through them bathed the floor in a golden color. Trying not to look suspicious, you made your way to the front of the room to get a better view.

When you reached the base of the window, you looked out and were instantly let down. A massive transport was unloading large crates just outside the window, and all you could see was the bit of sunlight that was flowing into the command center. You huffed with frustration and folded your arms as you tried to think of somewhere else that would give you a good view. Of course, by now you were probably too late to see the really beautiful parts of the morning.

A familiar voice interrupted your brooding, and your head instinctively turned towards the sound. A part of you was shocked when you saw the general, but knowing how early he usually got up, this seemed natural. He was sitting next to a desk that was covered in documents, hunched over the papers with dark circles under his eyes. As you approached him, he didn’t seem to take notice of you. Ever so slowly, you leaned into his area of vision and gave him a tiny smile. His eyes locked onto yours, and he sat up straight in his chair with a stifled yawn.

“Good morning, General,” you grinned. “Sleep well?” Hux shook his head and arranged some of the things in his workspace into neat piles.

“I didn’t sleep at all,” he muttered. “I have far too much work to do. Besides, there’s enough coffee in this base to sink the Resistance.” He looked over at a pure black mug and picked it up, frowning as you both saw that it was empty.

“Speaking of which, I should get some more and finish reading through these trade proposals,” he added, beginning to stand. You put a hand on his shoulder, keeping him from getting up.

“Let me,” you offered, extending your other hand to him. “Where’s the coffee maker?” The commander blinked up at you for a moment, then sighed and relaxed against the back of his seat.

“Take a right outside the door, then continue on until you reach the lounge,” he instructed you, defeated. “I take it with a scoop of sugar and nothing else.” He handed you the mug, and you dipped your head to him. As you left, Hux called out to a few nearby officers, but you paid them no mind. You had a mission, now, and you were focused on your end goal. The sunrise didn’t even matter anymore, although you hoped you might catch the tail end of it if you hurried.

You followed his directions and took a right after you exited the large room. More people were milling about, all chatting quietly as they made their way to their stations or workplaces. A few technicians were working on a light panel nearby, which looked as though it had been slashed through by something that melted the metal around it. You gulped, knowing immediately who was responsible for that damage.

“...can’t believe the Supreme Leader would kill one of his own captains,” one of them said to his coworkers. “What was that guy’s name again? Captain Licon or something?”

“Doesn’t matter,” a tall woman replied over her shoulder. “He’s dead. Now we gotta clean up the damage. Hand me that wrench, Delphi…” You picked up the pace, not wishing to think about the dark figure anymore. In a few moments you saw the lounge that Hux had told you about, and as you approached the door a man came out of it. He was a little bit familiar to you, although you were sure that you could not place a name on him.

“My apologies,” he said quickly as he nearly bumped into you. Where you expected him to go around you, he simply stopped and stared. He didn’t seem like he wanted you to move for him, but it rather that he was studying you. His blue eyes drifted down to your cane, then back up to your face.

“What are you doing out of the medical ward, Director?” he asked. This man knew you, and you were ashamed that you didn’t really remember him.

“Oh! Well, my leg healed faster than the doctors thought it would, and I’m almost done with rehab,” you told him before holding up the mug in your hands. “I’m on my way to get General Hux some coffee. Might as well get some more exercise in and try to get rid of this cane, right?” You glanced at his rank insignia on his cuff and saw that he was a captain. Where had you seen this man before? Had he been on the Supremacy too? Or perhaps the Finalizer?

“Indeed,” he mumbled. His eyes were slightly hooded and his gaze was colder than before. “I thought you would have been recovering for a little while longer. But I suppose I could only fill in for you for so long.” A surge of recollection hit you like a bolt of lightning.

 _Captain Peavey_ , you finally said to yourself. _Right. This is the guy that Hux hates so much._

“I’m stronger than I look,” you attempted to jest. It had no effect on that statue-like demeanor that Peavey now carried with him. The icy color of his eyes and his greying hair outlined a pale scowl that gave you a chilling sensation like a wintry breeze. He was certainly not happy that you were well again, and you figured that just like a lot of people in the First Order, he wanted your job.

“I should return to my post,” Peavey muttered before pushing past you. You dodged his shoulder and watched as he left. It seemed like he could leave a trail of frost in his wake. As soon as he passed by those same repair technicians, you shuddered and returned to the task at hand.

The lounge was nothing like the one on the Finalizer. It lacked windows, which left only the dull white lights of the fixtures to brighten the completely gray and black walls. You found the coffee machine and the additives next to it and got right to work. You pressed the button on the device and picked up the spoon that was resting inside a small jar of sugar. Next to all the supplements was a rack of mugs identical to the one you were filling at the moment, so you decided to pick up one for yourself. It would be nice to spend some time sitting next to the general and casually drinking coffee.

 _Although... he really should get to bed_ , you reminded yourself. After a moment of reconsideration, you shrugged and slightly shook your head. _He’s pulled this stuff before. I’m sure one more all-nighter won’t be too bad for him._

The machine let out a small beeping noise, and you grabbed Hux’s mug again. You put a spoonful of sugar into the drink, then took a stirrer and swirled the sweet substance into the dark liquid. Then, you prepared your own coffee with cream and a slightly more generous helping of sugar. In order to grab your cup, you were forced to tuck the cane under your arm. Trying not to look too silly, you turned and exited the lounge and moved back down the hall, this time completely tuning out the workers this time in order to avoid accidentally eavesdropping on uncomfortable conversations. It was difficult to not look completely foolish while you awkwardly shuffled through the corridor, especially with the full cups of coffee that you were trying not to spill.

As you re-entered the central hub, you immediately caught sight of Hux, who was still surrounded by the officers that he had called over. However, Peavey had now joined the group that was buzzing with questions. The general looked overwhelmed by all the inquiry and was rapidly turning his head from one person to the next, trying to give them the information they wanted.

“But what about the janitorial staff?” asked a lieutenant.

“Yeah, and the miners,” said another.

“They’ll be taken care of if you follow the instructions I sent to you,” Hux told them.

“Sir, we also need to talk about the budget for these things,” said a different commander.

“The budget for your individual missions are in the comms that I sent,” the general replied, a rare hint of exasperation in his tone. Peavey whispered something to him, and Hux simply waved him off. The captain looked surprised and he even took a step back. His eyes landed on you as you approached, and it looked as if he was struggling to hide another foul expression.

“General,” you cut through the noise. The cluster turned towards you, including a very relieved Hux. He swiftly walked to meet you, whisking his hand as he moved away from the other commanders as a signal to leave him alone. The bunch looked at each other, then murmured dejectedly as they dispersed. Peavey stayed still for a moment but eventually went away as well.

“You’re a life saver,” Hux sighed as you handed him his coffee. The general gestured to a nearby empty seat, and you pulled it towards his desk while he sat down.

“Why can’t they be more like you?” he grumbled as you sat too. “You’re never bothersome when it comes to orders, but they have to ask a million questions that could easily be answered if they bothered to think.” You quirked a brow with a slight smirk as you took your first sip. Despite the fact that this was military-grade coffee with only a little bit of sweeteners, it wasn’t half bad.

“I recall asking for more information too, when I was told to design the Jakku base,” you replied. Hux’s lips turned into a line for a few seconds. You felt a little bit triumphant that you had caught him off guard, even if it was only in jest.

“Well… They’re not as professional as you,” he reasoned, drawing his brows as he looked over his shoulders to check for nearby listeners.

“I think you’re just being grumpy,” you smiled. You leaned forwards a little bit, resting your arm against his desktop as Hux looked over you, bewildered.

“I haven’t had my coffee yet,” the general shrugged with a tiny grin. You chuckled under your breath.

“Is that all it takes?” you wondered aloud.

“Coffee is quite the miracle,” Hux smiled just a little bit wider. Then, his voice dropped to a mumble as he spoke over the rim of his mug. “Of course, it could never make me feel as pleasant as you.” You nearly choked on your beverage as you tried to hide your laughter.

“Did you just make a flirty joke?” you asked incredulously. The commander was as pale as a sheet, and his expression turned into a sulk again.

“No no! Don’t get me wrong, it was great,” you assured him with a genuine grin. Hux let out a deep breath, and some color returned to his cheeks. You wondered if he had ever said something like that before. It didn’t seem like him, but then again you had unlocked a few different sides that you never expected to see.

“Ah,” the general suddenly looked up towards the dais near the main control panels. “There he goes.” An admiral was making his way up to the platform with a determined look.

“What’s he doing?” you asked.

“Admiral Hapken is going to make an announcement to the officers,” Hux replied as you took a long drink of your coffee. As you savored the taste of the beverage, you couldn’t help but think about if his lips would taste like coffee as well if you kissed him. Of course, there was no need to rush, but it was only natural to think of such things.

You tried to shift in your seat so you could see the commander better, and you accidentally bumped your knee against the general’s.

“Sorry,” you muttered.

“It’s alright.” Hux continued to look onwards, casually drinking from his mug as well. The admiral cleared his throat and assumed the typical position where his hands were behind his back and his legs were shoulder-length apart.

“Attention!” Hapken called out. At that moment, the man beside you bumped his knee into yours.

“Sorry,” he mimicked with a straight face. Your heart leapt as you realized that he was being playful, despite how easily he was able to hide it. You immediately seized the opportunity and bumped him back.

“Turnabout is fair play,” you mumbled. Hux set his mug down.

“All officers that preside over training regiments are to meet with me in the north conference room immediately!” the admiral continued. The general nudged you once more, and you retaliated. Hux appeared busy from the torso up by pulling out a pen from a holder and writing things down on one of his documents. You continued to drink your coffee, pretending to listen intently to the admiral.

“There is going to be a meeting on new budgets and training regiments,” Hapken added. The room went silent for a moment, and the two of you were currently locked in a battle of limbs beneath the table. You stifled a giggle, and for a moment you felt the admiral’s eyes boring into you.

You paused for a few seconds and forced yourself to clear your throat. Hux stopped and looked up, and he even took a moment to fake showing you the paper he was reading. The man on the dais turned his attention back to the center of the room.

“All officers called to this meeting will now be dismissed,” he concluded before stepping down. The command center suddenly erupted with muttering, but after about a minute everything was relatively quiet, aside from the now constant buzz of quiet conversation in the background.

“General Hux.” Before you could do anything else, Phasma’s voice came from near the entrance. She must have just walked in because you didn’t see her while the throng of officers was trying to leave.

“Captain Phasma,” your partner replied as he set his work back on the desk. Hux gave you one more bump of the knee before standing, and you had to hold back another laugh. He was clever when it came to discreet flirting, a skill that you hoped to learn from him as well.

“Sir, I have new information about the new FN Corps,” she said as she produced a flash drive. “This also includes the information for all of the trainees in my units.”

“Thank you, Captain,” the general nodded as he took hold of the chip. “I apologize, but it will take me a while to process and file all this information. Expect this to be returned in two days minimum.”

“Of course, sir,” Phasma nodded. Eager to help, you stood as fast as your new leg allowed.

“General, if I have proper clearance I could do that for you,” you offered. Both the general and the captain turned their heads towards you. “You’ve already got so much work, and I should start making myself useful again.” Hux’s brows raised, then bowed in relief. He handed you the chip with a grateful expression.

“Thanks, love.”

Time froze, and Hux’s hand twitched as he realized his slip-up too late. It was as if some long-gone term of endearment has resurfaced by accident. You couldn’t see her eyes, but you knew that Phasma was completely focused on you, based on the distant stare that her helmet seemed to hold. Embarrassment rushed up to your face in the form of a frighteningly sudden blush. You were even a little bit dizzy from the quick flow of blood. The captain broke the tension by turning her body back towards Hux, and in turn, you and the general pulled your hands to your sides, but as soon as the motion started it was over, and everyone remained as statues. You gripped the drive with enough force that you swore you might break it at any moment.

 _Thanks, love._ His words echoed as if your mind was a deep cave. His completely relaxed tone enveloped your senses. He was either so placid around you that he had made the mistake on a mere whim, or he was so tired that his mental blockade had crumbled for a brief moment.

“So, you’re using pet names now?” the soldier asked nonchalantly. A gasp escaped your lips, and you took that as your cue to leave.

“Sorry,” you nearly whimpered as you whirled around. “I’ll get right on this, sir.” You left the other two behind, and you could still feel that burning sensation in the back of your head that told you that Phasma was still staring. _Of course,_ it had to be her, the one woman who actually knew that you harbored feelings for the general, despite the fact that you weren’t sure that she considered you as a friend just yet. You had unlocked just a little bit of her psyche in the time you had gotten to know her, and you knew that she was certainly one for gossip, even if she preferred to keep these secrets to herself.

As you reached an empty console and sat down, you could see Hux speaking to the chromium-clad woman with a face that made him look like he’d just eaten a lemon. His brows and eyes were drawn into a deep glare, his nose was wrinkled, and his lips were pursed as he spoke. Phasma made no motions that denoted her feelings on the matter, as she was prone to do.

You certainly didn’t expect her to have said anything like that, especially to the general who she served directly under. Even for such a powerful woman, she had to have certain boundaries. Judging by the way that Hux was tersely speaking with her, she had crossed some sort of line. Whether or not Phasma responded to his chastising remained unclear due to her unreadable features.

To keep your mind off of it, you plugged in the chip and looked through the data. Soldiers from all over the Outer Rim were enlisted in the corps. Quite a few of them were ex-criminals or smugglers, but clearly, the pay as a soldier was much better than what they got through their felonies. You briefly glanced over the names of the men and women in the files, then went back to the first page of information and began to check each soldier’s background. The minutes ticked by slowly, and the untrustworthy facts that surfaced about each of these people made you increasingly more wary of them. You were concerned about Phasma taking on such dangerous people as her new trainees, but you were reassured by the fact that she was a well respected and intimidating military commander.

Footsteps approached you, and you quickly turned your head to see Captain Peavey walking briskly towards you. By now his cold expression had faded, but his pupils were still glazed with an inhospitable shimmer. You paused your task and made sure that he could not see what you were doing, just in case he didn’t have the proper clearance. Besides that, something about him irked you enough that you felt the action was necessary.

“Director, may I ask what you are working on?” he asked as he stood still. He was a little too close for comfort, especially since he was a man you had never really talked to before today.

“I’m filing reports for General Hux,” you replied, a little more casually than you wanted. “Do you need this terminal?”

“Not at all,” Peavey replied with a shake of his head. He had on a genuine smile, and you felt his iciness melt away. You were stunned, realizing that you might have judged him too early and that perhaps he just had a mean look about him and that was the end of it.

“You said this is for General Hux?” he asked with warmth.

“Yeah,” you grinned sheepishly back at him.

“I know we talked about this earlier, but when exactly do you get out of the medical ward?”

“I’m not sure. I’m pretty close to finishing rehab, I think.”

“Of course,” he replied with a mild chuckle. His eyes fell on you with an inky depth about them that seemed incongruent with the rest of his expression. “Well, don’t let me keep you again. Carry on.”

Without another word, he stepped away from you and in the direction of your partner, who was still speaking with Phasma. You watched out of the corner or your eye as Hux turned towards the man drawing near him. The soldier left the two of them alone, presumably dismissed from her scolding. Once again, you couldn’t hear the conversation, and you had to appear busy in order to not seem suspicious.

He seemed to be a much nicer guy than Hux had described him. From his stories, Peavey was a massively annoying man who spoke with a constant, sickeningly honeyed tone. He was always trying to kiss up to his superiors, which included someone of your rank. The captain was suddenly pleasant, though. Maybe he just needed a little bit of coffee in order to let his more chipper side out.

Peavey’s back was facing you, so you couldn’t try to read his lips. The general did not move for the longest time, not even moving his eyes. When the captain went still, Hux replied with something that made the older man flinch. Peavey turned around and motioned towards you with his hand, causing you to quickly look away entirely. When you looked back, Hux was pushing past his subordinate with the same blank expression that he had worn throughout the entire conversation. Peavey’s wintry look had returned, and he was a man made of ice and disgust as he watched the general walk away from him. Hux went straight for you, and he even broke his mechanical stance to put his hands on your upper arms.

“We’re leaving,” he muttered. His voice betrayed his emotions entirely. It was deep, almost gravely, and insistent. He was upset, but he hid the depths of his rage with his routine subtlety. You nodded and quickly saved your work before taking the chip out of the terminal. The general steered you through the command center until you had left the room.

In the hallways, a few people stared at the two of you with a confused expression, but then they would look at your cane and seemed to be reconciled, continuing on peacefully. Hux finally led you towards a wing you had not been in before. Judging by the way that the rooms were numbered and lettered, you could guess that these were the base’s living quarters. The commander turned a corner rather sharply, and he stepped into a hall that was thinner than the one you had just been in. You kept moving until the very end of the passage, going into a door that was in the center of the far wall. It seemed to be more of a suite than a normal room, which reminded you of his chambers on the Finalizer, way up high above everyone else’s.

The thought struck you that you had never been in Hux’s quarters before. The room had always been a mystery to you, especially as to what was held inside. It was most likely different now than it was on the massive ship, but he was a man of very particular tastes, so the interior could not be too divergent from the original.

Before you knew it, the man had used his keycard and was escorting you inside. Your heart beat rapidly, and for some reason, your feet wanted to plant themselves outside the door. It just felt rude to enter, oddly enough. He was a well-respected general, and even though you were seeing him now he was still technically your boss. Nonetheless, you were eventually standing in the dead center of his quarters.

You turned your head this way and that, as if you wanted to take in this secret location before you were inevitably shut out again. The main area of the room was shaped like a rectangle, but there were two diagonal walls that pushed out, and a third segment between them that formed the space where the bed was. There were windows in there, too, and they spanned the outwardly slanted walls. Like just about everywhere else, the surfaces were black and glossy, and the light panels were just a tad too bright to look normal. A wardrobe and dresser were situated against the far right side of the rectangle, framing a door that you assumed to be his personal bathroom. Next to them was a pet bed that had a light green exterior and cream-colored cushions with a pair of food dishes nearby. On the other side of the room, a desk — although very tidy — was covered in different documents and maps of the galaxy. The actual wall sported a holoscreen that currently displayed schematics for some sort of cruiser.

The hands that had remained on your arms this whole time suddenly lifted, leaving you feeling a little cold. Hux turned around and stepped over to the controls near the door to shut it. He was silent and nearly unmoving until the mechanisms clicked as the entrance was closed. Then, his eyes were screwed shut as he whirled around with the force of a cyclone.

“The _nerve_ of that man!” he growled, shoving a gloved hand into his immaculate hair. The ginger locks were tossed up like fire, and you couldn’t help but wince at the rash action.

“What did he do?” you finally asked. The general nearly stomped towards a rack near the other side of the door, pulling off his large coat and almost tossing it onto the hook. He then moved towards you with fiery eyes.

“To quote him directly, he said, ‘Sir, I understand that the Director was your assistant back on the Finalizer, but you really should stop pitying her. She’s like a limping tauntaun following you around like that’,” Hux spat, folding his arms with a deep frown. Your brows flew upwards and your jaw went a little slack. In your heart, you were happy that he was so upset about this statement, but in your mind, you heard a tiny voice cry out.

_It’s true. You’ve been hindering him for a while now, especially since he has to cover up so much to keep Kylo from finding out what he did._

“Armitage—” The name now felt familiar and proper on your lips. “—you don’t think that’s true, do you?”

“No,” the general almost interrupted you. He stepped closer and cautiously reached out to put his hand on your shoulder. He took a deep breath and looked you in the eye. There was genuine concern in his gaze, and it somewhat set you at ease.

“Director, to call you a limping tauntaun is one of the most disrespectful things that I have ever heard,” he said. “You have been nothing but helpful to me ever since I took you on as my assistant, _including_ while you have been in the medical wing.” His expression then softened to something less urgent and more mellow, especially in his eyes. He stared at you more reverently than before, and the sharp mint had turned into a cool sage.

“You have shattered my expectations,” he muttered. You waited, hoping for some sort of clarification. “No matter how many times I foolishly tried to get you to become like any other soldier, you would always carry on your work with a smile. I couldn’t get rid of that smile, as much as I tried.” His fingers lifted from your shoulder and drifted up to land softly on your cheek.

“And I’m so glad that I didn’t.” His voice was hardly a whisper, like he didn’t know if he was saying the right thing. He let go of you after a few seconds, however, destroying the peaceful atmosphere as he brought his hands down to his sides and clenched them into fists.

“But that man crossed a line,” he added. “I’m demoting him.”

“Woah!” you exclaimed. The reaction wasn’t meant to be out loud, but the shock simply pushed it out of you. Hux’s entire body swiveled towards you in surprise.

“Sorry,” you shrunk away. “Isn’t that a little irrational?”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t have to demote him for that, he just made an observation,” you replied. The general’s eyes widened, and he folded his arms.

“I cannot allow someone to belittle any officer. _Especially_ someone so close to me,” he told you, brows drawing together again. You understood why he was upset, but he was truly jumping the gun here. Call it an act of passion, perhaps, but you knew that it was still unadvisable and would just make more people angry.

To show that you meant no harm, you let your shoulders drop and you approached the general slowly. Once you were close enough, you lifted your arms and moved in for a hug. It felt like the sleepless, irritated man needed one. Hux shifted half an inch away, most likely not understanding your motives, but then eased up once you embraced him. A few beats of tense silence passed before you felt his hands ghost over your back in reply. Then, he completely surrendered to the physical affection with a sigh.

The quiet was nice, for a change, unlike the hush of the medical ward. Being here in this silence and in your partner’s arms felt wonderful, despite the context of this situation. Hux’s breath lightly stirred your hair, now marking out a slow and even pace as you continued to embrace. The general began to slowly rock you back and forth, and his body felt a little bit heavier than before. It was clear that he was very tired now, most likely from all the excitement that he had just experienced.

“Why don’t you sleep on it?” you asked him softly. “You should get some rest, you’ve been awake all night.” In the pause that followed, the commander pulled you a little bit closer, cradling your cheek against his chest. You felt tempted to close your eyes and sleep as well, as you were now so comfortable that you didn’t want to move.

“Alright,” he mumbled in reply. You slowly pulled away from him and placed your hand near the nape of his neck.

“How ‘bout we make tonight that dinner that we still need to do?” you inquired, smiling with a small tilt of the head. Hux grinned, just barely, and nodded.

“I’ll come to your room at six sharp,” he said. “I’ll make sure that you won’t be eating simple cafeteria food.”

“You don’t have to—“

“Oh yes I do, Director,” he insisted. “Nothing but the best for you.”


	12. Evasion And Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My vacation is over and it's time to post again! I'm glad that I've still got so much support despite my erratic upload schedule. Thank you to all my readers!

Your quarters were very similar to the general’s. The room had the same rectangular shape but without the small trapezoidal expansion in the back. Your bed was in the center, a desk was on the left, and your dresser and closet were on the right next to your small bathroom. Despite the fact that you were on the frigid planet of Hays Minor, this room resembled your previous one in a few ways.

Your workspace was built like the one on the Finalizer, with all the latest technology for designing built into the desk itself. The bedspread and sheets were identical to your previous ones, as well as your closet. There wasn’t any other furniture in the space, unlike Hux’s room, and the bookshelf was missing. However, those weren’t entirely necessary seeing as you could just go down to the base’s library if you ever needed to study any particular subjects.

The whole look of the place carried sorrowful memories, often reminding you of the demise of so many people in that explosion. A few times during the month after you had visited Hux’s quarters for the first time, you had considered requesting new accommodations in order to escape the thought of the Finalizer. You never ended up asking, however, because you realized that all of this was probably military-grade and you couldn’t just request a whole new set of bedsheets.

You had finished a few more drafting projects recently, and the doctors had finally taken away your cane. It was still odd to look down and see an entirely new leg because it appeared to be identical to the one you used to have. Nevertheless, you were grateful that you were finally back on your feet and you became diligent in your daily tasks. Once again, Hux had you run errands around the base, which gave you a much better idea of the building’s layout.

Everything was situated around in an octagon, with eight branches making up A through H Hall on the first floor. Between the rooms that lined each passageway, there was a massive area dedicated to certain aspects of military training. There was the cafeteria between A and B, then continuing clockwise were the trainee quarters in one wing and the medical ward in another. An artillery stock followed, then the technical engineering hall, the base library, and the last two wings were the actual training decks. The second floor was made up of offices in one quarter of the space where Kylo’s grand hall and his chambers were nestled directly in the middle of the segment, the command center in another, and the other half was for the officer living spaces. It was so much more organized than the ship, and you appreciated the way that the rooms weren’t situated in a maze.

During a particularly quiet evening, your schedule denoted that you were in charge of closing the day shifts of all the commanders by filing all leftover data into the archives. You stood up from your desk, as usual, bidding the general a good evening. He invited you to dinner in his personal office, which he hardly ever used except for this purpose now, since he spent most of his time either in the command center or at the desk in his room. You obliged before departing from the core chamber of the facility.

Chip in hand, you made the journey to the archives, which were in the library. While you rode the elevator down, you thought over the current status of the First Order. With Hux keeping a constant — albeit terrified — eye on the business of reconstruction, new ships and weaponry were being developed almost daily. Ranks were steadily increasing, so thankfully Kylo hadn’t batted an eye yet. The general had been very clever in the new recruitment process, where he offered higher pay for anyone who was willing to enlist in the First Order military. People from all over the Outer Rim — even those who were just barely out of their teenage years — applied at their local training bases around the galaxy. This information would have been assuring to most, but the stress on your partner was growing just as quickly as the number of new recruits.

You stepped out onto the first floor and nodded to a few young cadets who were passing by. Their eyes seemed to glitter in admiration as they straightened their backs. Everyone around you seemed to have a completely different way of viewing you now. Sure, there were rumors surrounding you and your affiliation with Hux, but that didn’t bother you so much as your cane did. Other officers would avert your gaze simply because you looked weak, and some of them who knew your position stared at you with a hunger for power that you had been warned about so long ago. One of those people was Captain Peavey.

Around every corner, the man seemed to be hiding with his false positivity. He would smile at you and greet you at the door, even offering to help you with your duties. Knowing that he was aiming for your position, however, you refused his aid every time, always pushing ahead no matter how much work you had to do. Whenever Peavey was around, you were reminded of why Hux took you under his wing in the first place. Ambition is an admirable quality in the First Order, but there are those who are too ambitious to know their place. If you let your guard down for someone like the captain, you would be driven from your spot in the hierarchy or worse: dead.

“Director,” a woman nodded to you. One of the nurses who had taken care of you was exiting the library with a book under her arm and was holding the door open for you.

“Thank you,” you smiled back at her. She grinned shyly in return, her eyes looking down at the floor in a way that denoted her appreciation for the compliment. The medical staff didn’t get as much gratitude as they deserved, you realized. In fact, everyone who wasn’t an actual soldier or commander seemed to be friendly and cordial, which was something that was sorely lacked in the main department. With a pang of grief, you remembered how Andromeda and Hiram had treated you with kindness despite how everyone else around you was envious of your position.

Back behind the rows and rows of books was the vault-like room that contained the archives of the base. You took our your keycard and unlocked the large metal door. As soon as it slid open, the eyes of Captain Peavey met you, freezing you in your place as you gasped. His hands were reaching for a specific bank that caused your pulse to beat rapidly. Hux had you store all of his personal information about his reconstruction plans in that bank. It was his personal storage, and you were the only other officer given clearance to access it.

“Director,” Peavey muttered, his fingers twitching before he snapped his arms down to his sides. “It’s good to see you.” You now understood why the general was always so annoyed with him. His tone melted the ice that kept you stationary, and you stepped forward with intent. The door closed behind you, leaving you trapped in the room with him.

“I saw you at lunch,” you pointed out, quickly going about your business and sliding the chip into the main command center databank.

“Well- yes, you did, I suppose,” he laughed nervously. You could see his hands flexing into fists, and noticed that his gaze kept flicking back toward the storage device with Hux’s information in it. Peavey cleared his throat and rocked once on his heels. “What are you doing here?”

“Closing the day shift in the command center,” you replied casually. Before he could turn his back to you, you whipped around to face him with a questioning look. There was an uncharacteristic feeling of determination in you, fueling some sort of need to defend Hux’s data from this suspicious man.

“What were you doing with that bank?” you inquired. Peavey’s nose twitched, but you didn’t falter in the slightest. He couldn’t hold your gaze as he put on an overly bright look of camaraderie.

“I’m supposed to deposit a few old reports,” he smiled, holding up a chip. You narrowed your eyes at the silver drive in his hand. A memory surfaced from when you read the basic military field guide. There was a specific segment about sensitive data retention in the “Levels of Clearance” chapter.

“That’s a direct bank chip,” you realized out loud. “Those only withdraw data. And that’s General Hux’s personal bank, yours should be on the other wall.” Peavey fumbled with the device, biting his lip as his eyebrows flew upwards.

“I should be going,” the captain excused himself. You caught him by the shoulder as soon as he took a step.

“Direct bank chips are only used for data destruction or transmission,” you said, furrowing your brow. “It’s against code to withdraw data from someone else’s personal databank—”

Peavey’s hand suddenly seized your forearm, causing you to flinch with a gasp. His eyes were wild with rage as his grip tightened around you. Pain slowly crept up your limb, but your immediate terror prevented you from moving.

“ _I should be going_ ,” he hissed slowly. The captain then shoved your arm away with such force that you nearly stumbled backward into the wall of storage devices. By the time you had regained your senses, you could only catch a glimpse of his back as he exited the archives. The silence became stifling as you attempted to slow down your heartbeat.

 _He could have killed me_ , you instantly thought. _He’s so much stronger than he looks, he could snap me like a twig. Or what if he had a blaster on him? There’s a concealed carry policy, after all._

You continued to panic as new realizations emerged. Peavey had never directly threatened you before, only given you sidelong glances of envy when he thought you weren’t looking at him. He had insulted you, but you had made sure that Hux didn’t demote him for that because at first, you thought that it might have only been indirect. Now you wished that he had been taken from his position. He was clearly after something, and he was willing to break the regulations of the First Order to get it.

Although your hands were shaky, you managed to pull out your datapad and tap on Armitage’s contact. You typed out a quick message of distress, wanting nothing more than to have him come help you figure out this mess.

**Something happened with Peavey in the archives. I need you to get down here ASAP.**

You were worried that he was in a meeting, as he was prone to be in right before dinner time. If you had interrupted something, would he drop everything and go to you? You didn’t want to leave the room just in case the captain came back. If he was trying to retrieve something from Hux’s personal bank, that could mean a lot of trouble for the general. Did Peavey know something about Hux’s disobedience?

The sound of your datapad made you jump, but you quickly recovered and looked down at the message. Thankfully, it was from the general.

**I’m on my way. Stay there.**

Your legs felt like jelly, and soon enough you resigned to sit down with your back against the wall you had almost run into just a few moments ago. You could hear the sounds of faint footsteps as people passed outside, and each time that someone crossed the front of the vault your pulse rushed faster. Your hand was nervously moving towards your pistol, just in case Peavey ended up returning.

When the metal door opened once more, you panicked. With a sudden lurch backward, your hand dove for your blaster. In the rush, you ended up just knocking it out of the holster and onto the floor instead of grabbing it as you had planned.

“Kriffing hell!” cried Hux. “It’s _me!_ ”

“Sorry!” you whimpered. The general took a few steps in, clearly upset.

“That could have—” He stopped himself, turned around, quickly shut the door again, then continued. “That could have gone off and killed you!” He folded his arms and looked down at you with a disappointed scowl, the same one that you had seen multiple times before while he had been training you.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you reflexively apologized. Honestly, you didn’t really know that you had said it, because you were too focused on putting the weapon back in its place at your side. The pressure in your head roared to a dull ache, and suddenly the lights seemed a bit too bright.

“Director…” the general trailed off. As you secured the pistol, your eyes trailed up to meet his gaze, although you didn’t tip your head at all. His features were now soft, filled with concern. You tried to stand, but you felt a little dizzy from the adrenaline so you decided against it. That’s when the commander swooped down to kneel beside you, his hands reaching towards you in that awkward way that he did when he wasn’t quite sure how to comfort you.

“You don’t have to call me sir here,” he offered, albeit with an unsure tone.

“Sorry,” you shrugged as you finally looked directly at him. “It’s just because of what happened with Peavey. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re starting to cry,” Hux pointed out sternly. The statement wasn’t exactly directed at you, more at your eyes themselves, as if he could prevent them from misting up like they were now by just telling them to stop. You found that oddly endearing, and quickly wiped away the stress-born drops before they could fall.

“It’s okay,” you shook your head. “That’s not why I asked you to come here. I think something might be going on with Peavey. Something serious.”

“You _think?_ ” he asked warily. His hands finally found purchase on your upper arms, and he shuffled a few inches closer while continuously scanning your face for more signs of distress. “Did he do something to you?”

“Yeah,” you nodded before pointing to the forearm where he had grabbed you. “He kinda threatened me, and he shoved me. But that’s not the prob—”

“He did _what?_ ” Hux barked. Now his eyes were locked with yours, sparkling with anger. He cupped your cheeks in his palms as he snarled at some sort of invisible blemish that the captain had left on you. “Did he hurt you? Where did he go? I won’t just demote him, I’ll send him off to some forsaken corner of the galaxy!”

“Later,” you insisted, bringing his focus back to the moment at hand. “He was trying to break into your information with a direct bank chip. I caught him right before he could do it.” The general’s face went a few shades paler, and with a few mumbled words that you didn’t quite catch he suddenly stood up and assisted you to your feet as well. You realized that the chip that you had brought in was still in the machine, the files delivered a while ago by now. While Hux observed his databank, you retrieved the drive and turned it over in your gloved fingers. You had walked into this room just a few minutes ago hoping to leave and have a relaxing evening. Boy, were you wrong.

“It’s encrypted, so I’m not sure that he could have gotten very far with just a direct bank chip,” he muttered with his hand resting against his chin in contemplation. A thought seemed to strike him because he abruptly recoiled with a slight gasp. “Unless… Director, we have to go look at the security footage. He might have been closer to getting into that storage than we think.”

“What about this?” you asked, holding up the chip. Hux looked at your arm, and you noticed how rumpled the sleeve now was. With an almost timid stance, the general approached you again.

“Did he hurt you?” he repeated his question from earlier, this time slower and quieter. Your heart melted when you looked at his anxious expression, and consoled him by shyly reaching for his hand and giving it a little squeeze.

“No,” you told him. “It just scared me, that’s all. I don’t even think it’ll bruise.” Despite your assurances, he didn’t seem to be entirely convinced of your wellbeing.

“Where do we go for the security footage?” you tried to distract him, lightly pushing him in the direction of the exit. “The sooner we get done with this, the sooner we can go have a relaxing night with Millicent.”

“It’s not that simple,” sighed Hux. He finally took charge and opened the door for you, leading you out into the library. The two of you kept your heads on a swivel, searching for the captain, wherever he slunk off to. “If we end up finding out that he really did something, we’ll have to go through a trial.”

“A trial?” you accidentally asked out loud. Your partner nodded as he took you to the elevator. Once inside, he turned to you and began to explain.

“Captain Peavey is not just a captain, he’s a _veteran_ captain. He’s been loyal to our ranks and even the affiliates of our ranks for so long that he’s immune to the normal sentences,” he told you with a hint of annoyance.

“What’s the normal sentence?” you inquired.  
“Hacking into such sensitive information would be punishable by immediate execution, if it weren’t for his status,” he replied casually, although it made your stomach do a flip. As much as you despised the guy, you certainly didn’t want to see him killed.

“Oh,” was all that you could squeak out. You remembered the first time that you had witnessed an execution. Although, technically you didn’t actually get to see the carnage. The blast from that Resistance cruiser hitting the Supremacy had knocked you out the moment that Phasma had given the order. Nonetheless, the atmosphere of pure barbarism left you terrified.

“What’s the alternative?” you wondered timorously. A part of you didn’t want to know, at this point.

“He’ll most likely be sent to the prison on Vardos,” Hux replied. The elevator doors opened and the general stepped out into the hall, where you followed at his heels. Prison didn't sound nearly as bad as execution, you supposed, but you could only speculate how long Peavey’s sentence could possibly be for.

You found that the two of you were making your way back to the command center. It reminded you that the data chip was still in the palm of your hand. When you reached the large hall, you beckoned a trainee over and handed them the device to put away. Hux didn’t stop walking, though, as he was seemingly lost in his own world, so you had to scramble to catch up with him. The man led you towards a glass door that you had never been through before. Behind it was a narrow hallway lined with other doors. Each of them was labeled with a different branch of technical operations: Ventilation and Temperature Regulation, Water, Signal Management, and finally Surveillance.

Hux produced his key from his greatcoat and stood with the perfect posture of a commander as the entrance slid to the side. The three technicians who were within the dimly lit room immediately sprang from their desks, giving him rigid and slightly fearful salutes.

“General Hux, sir,” one of them mumbled. “What can we do for you?”

“At ease,” Armitage nodded to them before bringing you inside. The small room was fixed with file cabinets at the back and a large desk at the front that supported an entire wall of holoscreens with footage constantly showing on them. You marveled at how closely the base was being monitored, and even raised your brow when you saw a camera aimed at the glass door leading to the very hallway you were in.

“We need to see some video of the archives,” Hux began as he stopped over the young officer who seemed to be in charge. “Recent footage. About… Director, how long has it been since this happened?”

“Somewhere around ten minutes, maybe?” you guessed. The general dipped his head to you before returning his attention to the screens.

“Let’s start at ten minutes, then,” he instructed. The technician nodded and obeyed his superior, pressing buttons and typing rapidly until four holograms enlarged to fill the wall equally. The cameras in the archives were positioned in the corners of the ceiling, all aimed down in order to watch over the sensitive data. Sure enough, Peavey was standing there with the direct bank chip in his hand. However, a few seconds later you walked in, and you already knew that story.

“Back it up a bit,” you piped up. The technician followed your orders, and the cameras zoomed backward in time until you saw Peavey entering, alone. The captain slowly shut the door behind him, his head flicking to and fro with obvious anxiety. That was already a bad sign.

He then produced an entirely different device than the one he had shown you from his pocket, which appeared to be purple and black in color. It was shaped like a small rod, and when he pressed something on it the item sprouted thin mechanical limbs. Peavey stepped toward the general’s databank with the object, and the little appendages moved to insert themselves in different ports along the black side of the storage unit. The captain’s head kept turning towards the door every other second, giving away his guilt.

“What is that thing?” the technician asked, squinting at the tool in Peavey’s grasp.

“Pause the feed,” Hux ordered. The image froze and the general pointed at the violet instrument.

“That’s a hacking tool,” he informed the room with a dark scowl. “Keep going.” The footage continued, showing the tool as it retracted and turned back into its small, cylindrical shape. Peavey then shoved the device back into his pocket before tilting his head to and fro. He seemed to be searching for something specific, because the second that he reached his hands up to possibly move the bank, you entered the archives onscreen.

“Contact Captain Phasma,” barked Hux. In a brief moment, he transformed from stern yet calm into his mesmerizingly cold form of anger. The technician could clearly sense this, and he swiftly called up the captain before a hologram popped up with the stormtrooper on it. The woman was holding her device in her hand as she greeted the general.

“General Hux,” she saluted him verbally.

“I want Captain Peavey arrested immediately for unauthorized access and attempted hacking of the General of the First Order’s data,” he demanded, stating the crime in an official way. His hands clasped behind his back tensely, denoting his true frustration.

“Captain Peavey?” Phasma said incredulously. She quickly righted herself, squaring her shoulders with a determined nod. “Yes sir. My troops will search for him now. FN Unit 5—!” She was cut off as Hux shut down the communication, and he swept his arm at the three technicians across the room.

“Send that footage to me immediately,” he ordered them. “And remain on standby for possible testimony.” With that, he grabbed your arm and tugged you out of the room with astonishing force, all but kicking down the door on his way out. He led you back down the hall and barely even waited for the glass to slide out of his way before pushing through the exit.

“Do you have any idea where he went?” Hux nearly shouted at you.

“No, I didn’t see which way he turned after he left.”

“We’ll find him.” His tone made him sound like some sort of beast that was departing on a hunting spree. His confidence mixed with the raw power that emanated from him stirred an emotion within you that you couldn’t name. Perhaps it was some form of admiration.

From your right, you heard the rapid sound of plastoid boots approaching. A small squad of stormtroopers was moving towards you and your partner, their weapons held firmly in their hands as they joined you.

“General Hux, sir;” said a soldier with a white pauldron. “Captain Phasma sent us to accompany you in case the suspect goes rogue.”

“He’s already gone damn rogue,” Hux growled. Your nerves lit up with anxious energy when you saw him pull his blaster from under his greatcoat. “Director, keep your wits about you. Remember your training.”

“Yeah,” you pushed out in a near rasp. You took his words as a warning and grabbed your DC-15s. This time, you were extra careful not to drop it, holding it firmly as Armitage had instructed you.

“Set it to stun,” continued the general. “If he ends up being hostile, we don’t want to kill him. We need to find out why he wants that information.” With a nod, you turned on the stun setting, feeling your skin begin to crawl as reality washed over you.

It hadn’t hit you until now, but this was the first time you had ever seen some real action that required you to carry your blaster. You hoped that you wouldn’t have to use it, as you were sure that you would screw up the shot somehow and hit someone else. As you trekked through the halls, you felt as though you were searching for an enemy spy, which was entirely possible given the circumstances. The sound of boots drummed to a steady beat, which you found your heartbeat matching as the group continued on. Officers leapt out of the way of the search party, and soon enough you had almost cleared the whole floor.

“Over here, Squad B!” called a stormtrooper that was just out of your sight. The soldiers led you and the general towards a large chamber outside the locker rooms of the training decks. A ring of the white-clad figures surrounded the captain who they were searching for. Peavey’s hands were up in the air, and his eyes were wild with panic as you both entered. A small crowd had gathered to see what the commotion was, a few murmuring and sneaking glances at the cornered man with suspicion.

“General. Director,” Phasma nodded to you both as she stepped from behind the wall of troops. “He’s all yours. Caught him headed towards the loading bay elevator.” The woman motioned towards a soldier near the back of the group, who broke away and handed you a pair of handcuffs. You slipped your blaster in its holster, understanding the task that you were being given. Hux met you at your side and ushered you towards Peavey, who was looking around like a mouse trapped in a snake’s hold.

“Captain Peavey, you are under arrest,” the general growled at him. He nodded to you, and you pressed the button that you assumed unlocked the block-like device. Thankfully, the cuffs opened, and with timid movements, you took a few steps into the ring of aimed blasters.

“You are charged with unauthorized access and hacking of confidential data belonging to the General of the First Order,” Hux continued. You looked into the eyes of the criminal and he stared back at you almost pleadingly. Despite the fact that he was a conniving scumbag, you didn’t feel very comfortable putting him in shackles to be taken away. Knowing that all eyes in the hall were on you, however, you reached out to put the cuffs on his wrists.

Then, in a blur of confusion and motion, you were whirled around as something grabbed at your side. Your back thumped against some sort of padded wall and the gathered crowd took a collective gasp. Something hard and cold pressed against your left temple, and you immediately realized that it was your blaster. The cuffs were now on the ground, abandoned at some point in the chaos. You heard Armitage shout your name, but it barely registered as you realized the severity of the situation.

 _I’m being held at gunpoint_ , you told yourself. _I’m going to die. I’m going to die…_ The voice repeated itself slowly and you felt the captain’s harsh grip around your right upper arm. His breath was hot on your ear, adding to your terror.

“Back up, or I’ll shoot her!” Peavey screeched at everyone around you. He pushed the weapon against your head and you yelled something in pure, horrified gibberish.

_I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die…_

“I’ll do it!” the crazed man shouted. “I’ll do it unless you _back the fuck up!_ ” There was a wave of tiny shuffles in the circle, as if each soldier recognized one by one that this simple arrest had turned into a hostage situation right before their very eyes.

“Do as he says!” your partner ordered, ending the buzz of hesitance. The soldiers moved away, aiming the blasters towards the ground and grouping back up around their chromium-plated leader. Phasma was silent, but her stance kept slightly shifting. You had never seen her flinch before, but she sure was doing it now.

“Good,” Peavey nodded with a tone so sinister that acid seemed to drip from his voice. “Good. Now, I want a ship. I want a ship right now, in the loading bay. And none of you are gonna stop me when I get on that thing and leave this planet!” This time, he was aiming his demands at only the general, whose gaze was flicking up and down between you and your captor.

“I won’t negotiate with a criminal!” seethed Hux. “Stand down—!” Peavey wrestled with you and pushed the barrel end painfully into your skull, wrenching another shriek from your throat.

“I’ll kill her!” he screamed into your ear. He jostled you again, and you whimpered uncontrollably, now sobbing with a force that wracked your entire body.

_I’mgoingtodieI’mgoingtodieI’mgoingtodieI’mgoingtodieI’mgoingtodieI’mgoingtodieI’mgoingtodieI’mgoingtodieI’mgoingtodieI’mgoingtodieI’mgoingtodieI’mgoingtodie..._

Panic went through you as the crowd bubbled with fear and anger. Everyone clearly wanted to do something, but they were too scared to move. Your entire body was shaking visibly and your heart was pounding harder than ever before in your entire life. You felt his hand on your arm, his labored breathing, his chest against your back, and your blaster against his temple.

_I’mgoingtodieI’mgoingtodie I’m going to die I’m going to die. I’m going to… Wait._

A memory from so long ago resurfaced about that blaster. It reminded you of Hux’s sure hands steadying your own around the grip and teaching you how to properly aim. You remembered your finger on the trigger as you set your eyes on the target.

Suddenly you lurched to the side, pulling a shout from the crowd as Peavey fired the weapon with a bewildered shout. Nothing came out of the barrel, and you were perfectly alive as you wrenched the pistol out of his grasp.

You turned and fired at the captain. The bolt hit him like lightning in his chest, causing you to recoil from the resulting energy so hard that you fell square on your back. Peavey slammed into the ground with a low thud, and suddenly the hall went silent. Your ears rang from the startlingly loud noise and bright light that the blast had created so close to you. It was nice to just be still for a few moments.

Before you could make even the slightest move, a pair of gloves hooked under your arms and hoisted you backward, dragging you along the ground as the ring of troopers seized Peavey’s motionless body. For a moment you thought you had killed him, but then you remembered that you had set your weapon to stun.

The crowd dispersed in a panic, rushing through whatever exits they could find at the sound of blaster fire. Once you had turned a corner, you wondered if it was okay to stand up, and you ended up falling out of the hold of the person who had pulled you away from the fray. They helped you stand, and as the ringing finally faded out, you recognized the face of General Hux. His expression was blown wide with astonishment as he took hold of your shoulders, steering you through the clamoring masses until you reached a door. You had no idea where you were going, but the moment that you saw the interior you realized that this was an empty conference room.

The door closed, and suddenly all you could hear was the sound of Hux catching his breath, along with your own pulse that was still struggling to sync up with all the commotion. The general moved from behind you and stood mere inches in front of you, his mint eyes blinking rapidly to clear away some sort of haze within them. You both simply stared at each other in shocked silence, taking in one another, baffled.

“That was the _stupidest_ thing you’ve ever done,” Hux tried to scold you, but his tone fell flat as he suddenly closed the gap between you. His lips crashed into yours, and your sharp inhale was cut off as you allowed him to desperately pull you closer.


	13. Swift Justice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a new chapter for all of you! Thanks so much for all the support, and May the 4th be with you all!

Back home, you had witnessed a few trials in your life. The ones that were broadcast throughout the planet were often shown being packed to the brim with spectators. The whole courthouse would be filled with anxious people waiting to see the entire case and the severity of the punishment if the defendant was found guilty.

For this trial, however, you were directly involved. The morning after Peavey had been sent to the prison deck of the base, you had been summoned by a certain officer who you had never met before to meet with him and General Hux. In his message, he had said that you would be telling your part of the story regarding the captain’s crimes. It only then became apparent to you that you were a key witness in this case, although you should have seen it earlier.

You relayed everything you had seen from the moment you entered the archives to when you shot him with a stun bolt in the chest. The man — a prosecutor named Major Mark Hamnik — nodded and typed it all down into his personal datapad. He then told Hux to share what he had witnessed, and the general told his side without any trace of fabrication or hyperbole. He was strikingly different from the previous night, with no trace of that wrathful fire in him. It had all been replaced with a diplomatic calmness that comforted you, in an odd way. Despite your current circumstances, his demeanor made you feel like this was business as usual.

When the prosecutor dismissed you both, you and Hux were ushered out by two soldiers into the central hall of the basement, which was bustling with guards and witnesses who were also going to testify. The two of you were led towards the main elevator, on your way to the chamber of the Supreme Leader for the trial. A young woman flanked by stormtroopers was shaking and looking to and fro, her dark chestnut hair matted in certain areas where she had clearly run her hand over it repeatedly.

“That’s Peavey’s mistress,” Hux whispered to you after you had passed her. You kept your eyes trained forward as if nothing was wrong, but you quirked a brow as a hint to go on. “He’s got a wife back on his home planet, but he hasn’t even thought about her in years.”

You wondered if your assigned guards had heard that, but thought better of it when you realized that they probably didn’t care. Hux’s fingers brushed against yours, just barely. The contact made you grin reflexively and you had to hide your slight blush. The kiss that you had shared yesterday had been your first with him, and it had been born out of a mixture delirium and passion that made you embarrassed.

 _At least it wasn’t a_ bad _kiss_ , you thought.

“How long will the trial last?” you inquired, trying to distract yourself.

“There’s plenty of evidence against him,” the general shrugged. “I’d say his sentence will be delivered in less than two hours.” You whistled, impressed. Chandrilan court cases took ages to get through, considering the planet was famous for its exceptionally well-trained lawyers.or its exceptionally well-trained lawyers. The law schools offered every range of education, from planet-based studies to levels worthy of the Galactic Senate.

The elevator halted, and the group stepped out to a relatively empty hallway. You were surprised, as you were used to seeing people crowd for blocks from the courthouse just to get a glimpse of the action taking place within. You reasoned that everyone was probably already in the grand hall. Hux put his hands behind his back, his chin tipped slightly upwards with satisfaction. You knew that he was glad that Peavey would finally be out of his hair, and after you had been held hostage by him you had lost all sympathy for him. The rest of the journey through the corridors was quick, and you were stunned to find that more people were heading away from your destination than going towards it.

“General Hux,” a woman called as she exited from the chamber you were headed for. She was wearing a basic officer’s uniform and held a clipboard firmly in her grasp. Her eyes landed on your partner with a purposeful gaze, beckoning him with her head to follow. The soldiers left you both as you followed the general.

You had never seen the Supreme Leader’s throne room before, but it truly took your breath away. Your head whirled around to take in the marble architecture. It took you a moment or two to realize that this was still in the same base you had just been walking through. The boring grayscale walls were so different from the temple-like interior of the room. Wooden chairs were set up uniformly on either side of the grand hall, bordering the area where the defense and the prosecution would sit. There was even a witness stand at the foot of the platform where Kylo Ren was supposed to preside as the judge. Although, technically he could supersede whatever evidence was presented because of his power.

“Director, you’ll be sitting here,” the woman gestured to a seat right next to the general. You nodded to her, but she was already walking quickly towards the entrance again. Hux put his coat over the back of his chair before he took his seat. As he settled in, his hand drifted over yours and gave it the briefest of squeezes. You relaxed your shoulders, wondering why they were bunched up in the first place. The whole room was relatively quiet, all hushed with only a few stray murmurs here and there. You took the moment to turn your head and really get a good look at your partner.

You wondered what your mother would say if she knew who you were currently going out with. If you could get the chance to send her a simple message, what would you say to her about him? Maybe something like “Hey mom, my boyfriend is the so-called ‘ruthless’ general of the First Order, hope you’re okay with that!” She would faint on the spot if she ever found out. Whether from happiness or dread, you didn’t know.

“What are you staring at?” Armitage mumbled to you. You blinked, clearing away the sight of your mother having a massive hysterical episode over the news.

“Nothing, I’m just thinking about my mom,” you responded casually, throwing in the slightest of grins. Hux leaned forward just a tad, looking at you with concern.

“Are you homesick?” he asked you. The question was sudden, and your mind instantly contradicted itself multiple times over. Were you? Sure, home was always in the back of your thoughts somewhere, but you were certainly a lot less jittery about staying in the military now.

“I… miss Chandrila...” you told him slowly, nodding to yourself as if you were reaffirming your statement. “...but I think that _this_ is also my home.” The sentence sat lightly on your lips, and for a moment you weren’t sure that you meant it. When you looked back at your partner, however, you felt the truth in your heart.

“Really?” the commander asked with a raised brow. “So… what has you thinking about your mother?”

“I was wondering what she’d think of you,” you chuckled. “I bet she’d want me to marry you on the spot. She’s always been a fan of fairytale romances. I hope you get to meet her, she’s the sweetest woman alive. And I hope I can meet your parents too, eventually. I mean, I don’t wanna rush things, it’s just—“ You stopped, noticing that he had tipped his face towards the ground. His expression was muddled with contemplation and some type of distress that you couldn’t put into words.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him. Hux flinched as if he had just noticed you were there, despite having just been in a conversation with you.

“I don’t have parents,” he stated bluntly. Your brows raised while your jaw went a little slack.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to… to y’know… bring anything up that might upset you,” you stumbled over your words. Your partner put his hand up, telling you silently that you hadn’t done anything wrong.

“It’s alright,” said the general. “I don’t think about them much, anyway.”

“Why not?” The question popped out of your mouth before you could stop it. You slammed your lips shut with a wince, shrinking visibly next to him.

“Sit up,” Hux ordered you quietly. He thankfully didn’t sound cross with you, and he even offered a gentle pat on the arm. “You don’t want to look nervous in a courtroom. It’s suspicious.”

“Right,” you mumbled. Although you knew it was rude, you couldn’t help but wonder about what had happened to his parents. Had they died? Was he adopted and that was just some odd way of saying it?

“All rise for the Supreme Leader!” a guard called into the chamber, startling everyone. You realized that everyone who was supposed to be gathered had taken their seats while you and your partner had been conversing, including the defense and the prosecution. It was a startlingly low number for such a grave trial. The whole room rushed to their feet in a fit of shuffling as Kylo Ren strode into the room.

His form was fitting of a king, with his facial features set in a powerful way that complimented his scar. However, his uniform gave him the appearance of a wraith, with death hidden just under his tattered cloak. The sound of his boots as he stepped up to his throne echoed in the massive space like water drops from the crags of an empty, desolate cave. Being in the presence of the one man who Hux was afraid of certainly made you nervous, even if his focus wasn’t going to be on the general today. Languidly, Kylo took his place in the massive marble chair.

“Be seated,” he commanded. His voice was hardly at a speaking level, and yet it carried over the crowd with ease. Everyone did as they were told, perfectly aligned like statues as they waited for something to happen.

“Entering now is the defendant, Captain Edrison Peavey!” the guard announced just as they had before. It was odd that the man on the throne could mumble and make it heard by the whole assembly, and yet the woman at the base of the dais had to shout to reach the same level of clarity.

Your attention snapped towards an entrance at the side of the room, which you hadn’t seen when you came in. People craned their necks to see the stony interior of a holding cell, only concealed by a facade that matched the wall.

 _So that’s why I couldn’t see it_ , you thought to yourself. _I wonder if there are more secret rooms in this base._ Your curiosity vanished as soon as Peavey entered. His wrists were bound by the cuffs you had tried to use on him yesterday, and a team of six stormtroopers stood around him in a tight rectangle. His hair was completely disheveled, drooping to frame a sagging face that seemed to have lost years of vitality over one night. The man’s entire face was cast downwards, and all the frost that he possessed seemed to have thawed. Or, at least, he was simply too exhausted to attempt to look fierce.

Peavey was brought to the dark stand that had been placed on the floor. He refused to meet the gazes of anyone in attendance, or perhaps he was unaware of his circumstances. The captain looked so tired that he was about to keel over.

“Captain Peavey,” Kylo began as he raised his hand. A collection of hovering holoscreens appeared in a semicircle around the throne. Each display was covered in information which was too far away for you to read.

“You have been charged with unauthorized access and hacking of confidential data belonging to the General of the First Order,” the Supreme Leader read. His tone was completely flat, so different from when you had heard him on the Finalizer and the Supremacy. He rolled his head to the side and propped it up on a closed hand. “How do you plead?”

Silence. Peavey remained motionless for so long that you might have been able to believe that he was a statue. However, when he finally stirred, the room seemed to let out a collective breath. The man’s torso unfurled sluggishly towards the figure on the throne. His eyes blinked once before he put on a look of pure terrified sadness. The emotion appeared to be completely raw, causing your heart to drop.

“Please. I am innocent, my lord,” he barely uttered, quivering. You and Hux bristled from head to toe, and others reacted in the same way. Kylo gave a lazy sigh and motioned towards the place where the prosecution and defense were seated.

“Your opening statements,” he commanded, opening his palm as if asking a child to hand over a toy. A stormtrooper ushered Peavey over to his seat as Major Hamnik stood up with a deep nod towards his leader. He stepped onto the podium with a sense of stern dignity before addressing the gathered officers. His face was tanned with a respectable hint of rose, and his brown hair was parted in a manner that curled off youthfully at the end. He was clearly older than Hux, but he had a somewhat cocky air about him.

“Good morning. I am Major Mark Hamnik of the LU Squadron of Interrogation and Diplomacy, and as you know I have been called here to expose the treasonous acts of the defendant. Yesterday, Zhellday the 24th, month 8 of 34 ABY, Captain Edrison Peavey was found attempting to hack into the secure and confidential data belonging to General Hux. He attempted to evade arrest and even held the Director of Engineering hostage at _gunpoint_ , which is not in his direct charge,” Hamnik debriefed the room. Your fingers clenched reflexively as your mind flashed briefly back to the scene where you had believed you were going to be killed. Beside you, the general lost a touch of his impartial expression to his anger, and you had to sneak your hand on top of his in order to get him to relax.

“Captain Peavey must explain his crimes, and his intention behind attempting to hack into that data,” the major hissed. “And before the day is out the evidence stacked against him will be very clear to all of you. For a man who has in the First Order for so long, he has been unable to carry his title with loyalty.” Without another word, he backed into his own side of the courtroom again. You were truly stunned at the brevity of his statement. Typically, a speech that opens a trial like this should have lasted half an hour. You wondered what other curveballs the First Order’s judicial system had in store. The defense then rose, his hands behind his back and a glint of resentment in his eyes. You had seen that look many times before in the Hanna City Grand Courthouse on Chandrila, where the attorney had clearly taken the case because they had personal ties with the defendant. His jet black hair framed a handsome yet intimidating face, with two deep chocolate eyes scanning the room like a hungry wampa.

“I am Colonel Jazhee Areshmi, and as Major Hamnik said, Edrison Peavey has been a captain in our ranks since the days of the Empire, serving under our current general’s father,” he began. “Why now would Captain Peavey choose to steal information from our databanks? Clearly, this could be seen as a shot at his long-standing position that he held on the Finalizer.”

 _It_ could _be,_ you scoffed inwardly. _But we all know that it’s not._

Areshmi sat back down as well, and the Supreme Leader sat forward with only a slight semblance of intrigue. He cast away the holoscreens of data that he had been looking over, now turning his gaze at you for a moment. The only other time that he had ever directly looked into your face was back on the Supremacy when he had threatened you. Even then, his mask had been able to hide his deathly stare.

“Bring the first witness forward,” he said casually. You swallowed as the prosecutor looked up at you as well. Soon, all eyes were following theirs up towards your seat, making your skin crawl.

“The prosecution calls a key witness, the Director of Engineering.” He didn’t even need to say your name, as you were already standing and being closely followed by a soldier down to the chair below the throne.

“Director,” Hamnik spoke to you as soon as you touched the seat. “Please relay what you saw yesterday. Don’t spare any details.” You wondered why they didn’t have you take some sort of oath, but there was an oddly hazy energy above you that seemed to emanate from the Supreme Leader. It was stifling enough that you didn’t feel any desire to lie. You cleared your throat, then spoke up as loud as you could.

“I was on my way to close the night shift in the command center by depositing the leftover communal data,” you began. “When I entered the archives in the library, I saw Captain Peavey...” You darted a glance at the man you were speaking of and your words caught in your throat. The captain was glaring daggers at you, once again turning icy on the turn of a dime. Did he have any _real_ emotions other than silent rage?

“Captain Peavey was reaching for the databank that belongs to General Hux,” you continued, trying not to sound shaky. You avoided Peavey’s gaze entirely as you went on, although you couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling he gave you. “When I asked him what he was doing, he said that he was depositing data. He showed me a direct bank chip, which I thought was odd so I got suspicious and tried to confront him about it. That’s when he grabbed my arm really hard.”

“Which arm, Director?” Hamnik interrupted.

“My right one,” you clarified, holding up the limb.

“Would you mind rolling up your sleeve, Director?” the prosecutor inquired. You remembered that he had asked to see your forearm earlier when you and Hux spoke to him and he knew that Peavey’s fingers had left bruises.

“Sure,” you nodded, carefully pushing the fabric to show off the red patch of skin where his hand had gripped your arm. The bruise was definitely showing, although it wasn’t so deep that it was purpling. A few audience members murmured, all looking down at you with a mixture of awe and slight pity.

“Continue,” said Hamnik. You rolled the sleeve down again and looked swiftly at Peavey again. His face was white, but so were his knuckles as his hands formed into fists.

“Captain Peavey then shoved me down and left the room,” you stated. You remembered the scared daze he had left you in, and suppressed a shudder. The temperature of the room seemed to have dropped a few degrees, despite the tension.

“I called for General Hux,” you added. “When he arrived and I told him what happened, he took me to the surveillance room and we looked over the footage. Before I had walked in, he had been using a hacking device on the databank, according to the camera footage.”

“Why don’t we roll that footage?” Hamnik rhetorically asked the small crowd. He pulled a small datapad from his uniform and tapped on the surface a few times before a massive holoscreen blipped into existence far above the floor. A cut of the surveillance film began, showing the audience everything that you and Hux had watched together. When Peavey took out the hacking tool, many officers drew in a breath and whispered towards their neighbor. Time went on, and soon you entered the picture and said your part. The captain gripped your arm, and the crowd gasped a little bit, now shaking their heads at Peavey and turning soft looks in your direction. The video ended the moment you hit the ground.

“Thank you, Director. That’s all I needed to hear from you,” Hamnik dipped his head to you. He returned to his table, clearly holding back a smug grin. You, however, weren’t quite as happy because it was not the defense’s turn. Areshmi walked up to you as he bit the inside of his cheek in thought. After that evidence, what could he do to come back from that?

“Director, I would like to ask you a few questions about the arrest itself,” he stated, tilting his head slightly to the left. You squared your shoulders and looked him in the eye, hoping to seem as intimidating as the general when he was negotiating.

“Only one blaster was shot when Captain Peavey was apprehended,” Areshmi noted. “That blaster belonged to you, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded to him. “It’s a DC-15s. It was set to stun.”

“Indeed it was,” he nodded. “In this arrest, your presence was unnecessary, and yet you were the one who shot him. Why is that?” Your nose scrunched up, and you wondered why he had asked that. Hamnik had even mentioned your hostage situation in his opening statement.

“It was in self-defense,” you replied. “I was walking up to the captain to put the restraints on him when he pulled my own blaster on me and held me at gunpoint. He even fired at me! Or… He _tried_ to fire at me.”

“Why couldn’t he fire at you?” the defense asked. There was something off about his tone, something that sounded almost like a sneer. What was he playing at?

“My blaster is registered to only fire when I’m holding it,” you told him.

“Bioregistry on a personal weapon for an engineer seems a little unnecessary, doesn’t it?” he inquired with a silky voice. “You didn’t go to any of our academies, did you, Director?”

“No,” you shook your head. Your mind was tying itself in knots trying to figure out what his point was. For a brief second, your eyes wandered to Hux, who looked just as puzzled as you were.

“Where did you get your gun from, then?” he asked. “Somebody else must have registered it for you. Someone of higher standing that knew how to operate the registry device.”

“I got it from General Hux,” you told him slowly. The gears in your head were beginning to turn.

“And you were instated as the general’s personal assistant at some point during your time aboard the Finalizer, yes?”

“Well, yes. It was right before I got my blaster.”

“And did General Hux train you afterward?”

“He did.”

“Why?”

You opened your mouth to answer him, but nothing came out. Despite the fact that you were required to answer him, you went silent. After all, you had only ever gotten a vague idea of why he had taken you on, which was that he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t get killed by people who wanted your position. But now that you were in a romantic relationship with the general, that made the root of the situation a lot more complicated.

“I see no reason why this matters,” Hamnik piped up. “Supreme Leader, I must request—“

“Silence,” Kylo casually stopped him. “I want to see where he’s going with this. Proceed.” Areshmi smiled devilishly, but as soon as you blinked he was businesslike again.

“The question still stands, Director,” he said, leaning towards you in a predatory way.

“I don’t know,” you blurted, resisting the urge to scrunch your shoulders. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking away from him, however, and your eyes landed on Armitage again. Your partner was glaring down at the man before you until he noticed that you were looking at him. His gaze locked with yours in a nervous way that you were shocked to see. He didn’t seem to know either.

“Interesting,” Areshmi nodded. He was no longer facing you, but rather he was sweeping his gaze around the chamber at the people who were gathered. “I believe I’m finished with you, but for my case, I need to bring forward my own witness. General Hux, if you would please take the stand.” The gathered officers spun towards each other, whispering with pure confusion as the general stood up slowly. You got to your feet as well, pushing through your befuddlement in order to get back to your seat.

Armitage sat down in the witness’ chair, and you couldn’t help but notice how Kylo seemed to enjoy looming over him like a bird of prey. The Supreme Leader leered down at the commander with a wicked shimmer in his eyes, motioning towards the defense to go on.

“General Hux, I must ask a personal question,” sighed Arehsmi, his tone completely coy. Your partner folded his arms and shot the man a look that seemed to say “if you must” in an already tired manner.

“What is your relationship with the Director of Engineering?” asked the colonel.

“She’s my personal assistant, as I’m sure you know,” Hux told him. There was no feeling or emotion in his voice, as he was simply stating a fact.

“I do, General,” Areshmi nodded slowly. “Did you ever make the Director aware that Captain Peavey was promised to be your personal assistant before her arrival on the Finalizer?” Your brows shot upward. He had already arranged for someone else to be his attendant? The fact that he chose you instead would have flattered you if you weren’t so concerned with where Areshmi might be taking this.

“No, I didn’t,” the general finally replied. “It wasn’t necessary for her to know. She didn’t have to do any of the paperwork.”

“Wasn’t necessary?” you heard Peavey growl. Everyone in the room turned their heads toward the captain, stunned to see him in such a state of anger. He was nearly frothing at the mouth, although the rest of his body was posed in a perfect image of silent rage. The whites of his eyes were clearly visible, and his scowl was as deep as a trench on his sickly face.

“ _Wasn’t necessary?_ ” he repeated, louder this time. Suddenly, he lurched in his chair, alerting the guards stationed around him. His cuffed hands reached up before he quickly slammed his fists against the table. One of the soldiers gripped their blaster tightly.

“I have been waiting for that position for twenty-five years!” Peavey seethed. The crowd was speaking in a mild frenzy, shuffling a few inches back from the defendant below. “I served under your father! He promised me that I would be your advisor!”

“Sit down!” Hamnik spat at him. “This is unacceptable behavior!”

“Quiet, Major,” Kylo shot down at the prosecutor. “Captain, stand and make your case.” Whatever boredom that had consumed the cloaked figure was now gone, replaced with impishness as he surveyed his subjects below him. Peavey obeyed him, rocketing to his feet and pushing the chair back far enough that it startled one of the troopers.

“Until just a few months ago, I had been at General Hux’s side by right of status!” shouted the captain. He had to move both of his hands in order to point up at you, but he was still able to aim his wintry fury at you.

“When the Director became his assistant, General Hux became far less involved with his work!” Peavey accused. “Always off with her, training or conversing. It only got worse after the destruction of the fleet. While she was in the medical ward, I was constantly trying to keep the general at his workstation. And yet he still chose to constantly visit her! He entrusted me with work regarding the reconstruction of the First Order, but then cut me off entirely from his data.”

You tensed, wondering if he knew that Hux had disobeyed the Supreme Leader. Would he try to expose the General in front of these important officers? Armitage would be killed on the spot, knowing Kylo’s attitude towards him.

“Now they’re inseparable! Behind closed doors and in the back halls of the base, they’re always together! They’re hiding something! _Something big!”_ The man was almost in hysterics now, and without warning, he attempted to leap around the side of the table towards you. Two troopers jumped for him, grabbing his arms and holding him back. Peavey’s boots slid futilely against the marble as you were startled out of your seat. The officers and commanders near you stood up and put their arms out in order to protect you from the raging beast.

“ _You’ve stolen everything I’ve ever worked for!_ ” Peavey screamed at you as he struggled against the guards. “ _If you hadn’t been in that archive room, I would’ve found enough dirt on you and that bastard to get you thrown out of an airlock!_ ” At this point, you were being ushered toward the golden doors by all sorts of soldiers and commanders. The general got up, of his own accord, and bounded around the room to reach you.

As you were swept with the wave of distressed officers to the exit, time seemed to slow to a near halt. Hux was at your side, both angered beyond measure and equally worried. There was the deranged monster who had replaced Captain Edrison Peavey, whose blizzard-like rampage was chasing you with a gust of freezing wind as he kept shrieking. At the back of the room, Kylo remained seated. He was leaning against his hand again, but he was no longer bored. His hunting gaze was locked onto you, and his lip was curled in an amused smile.

Everything sped back up to normal, and the former audience was cast out into the base. Your feet carried you with a speed you barely knew you possessed, as if the captain would catch you if you were too slow, and this time he would get his hands on a blaster that he could actually fire.

“Director!” Hux called to you. The echoing thought of your position originally belonging to Peavey resounded continuously. Why hadn’t he told you, especially if the captain had been promised to be his personal assistant? You pressed on.

“Director, where are you going?” the general inquired as he finally caught up with you. No reply came to mind, so you did what your shaken mind told you to do and you took a sharp left. Armitage almost missed the turn and had to scramble again to reach you. The two of you were now alone, moving towards the maintenance hall at high speed.

You were suddenly sick of everything around you, unable to gloss over the wretchedness that hid behind these oppressive walls any longer. The sudden removal from your cozy life on Chandrila, the brutish atmosphere that followed you everywhere thanks to this position you carried, the knowledge that your friends on the Finalizer were dead, losing a leg just to have it grown back as if nothing had ever happened, the pressure of keeping your relationship a secret as well as Hux’s disobedience, the fact that you could have been killed multiple times yesterday, it was all too much for your mind to take any longer. You couldn’t just put on a smile and distract yourself with a task.

“What’s wrong?” Hux tried to get through to you again, reaching out towards you. A pure bolt of emotion flowed through you. You yanked your cap off of your head as you whipped around to face the general, throwing it onto the ground with all the strength you could muster.

“ _I want to go home!_ ” you shrieked without a single care as to who might hear. Armitage looked briefly scared, even holding up his arm like you were going to strike him. Your anger fizzled and transformed into exasperation. Although you maintained your mid-throw pose while you huffed each breath, tears bloomed at the corners of your vision. You blinked them away, not truly feeling sad enough to break down.

“I wanna go home,” you croaked, losing the energy in your voice before you relaxed your stance. Your limbs hung loosely at your sides as you bent down to pick up your hat. The urge to go back to your room and sleep overtook you, and so you put it back on your head without bothering to dust it off.

The idea of the First Order possibly being your home was abandoned. You turned around and walked away, not really thinking whether or not you left your partner stranded in the hallway, dazed and concerned.


	14. Early Morning Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've officially hit finals study season, and this will be the last post until I am done with the school year! Thank you so much for supporting my work, I love writing this story for you all!

It took only about an hour after the trial before a message was sent out saying that Captain Peavey was sentenced to prison on the planet Vardos. You missed the original memo because you had gone straight to your quarters and taken your insomnia medicine. You fell asleep without even taking off your uniform or getting under the covers. The fierce weight of your current life had suddenly dropped hard on you, and it was clear that your body was not ready to deal with the consequences.

You slept for over sixteen hours, that day, and you woke up a little after three in the morning. The ceiling of your room was what met your eyes, illuminated by the lights that you had accidentally left on when you entered that morning. Cursing softly under your breath, you sat up and stretched, feeling rather tense for having slept so long, even without any dreams that you could recall.

Deep inside, you knew that you weren’t finished having an internal tantrum. You were upset with every aspect of your situation, at the moment, but the knowledge that it was futile to try to change anything kept you from dwelling on it at the surface of your mind. With a yawn, you stood and turned towards your closet as you decided to see if you could take an early morning shift, now that you were wide awake. You changed out of your previous outfit into a new one, grumbling at its blandness and how every day was just as repetitive as your uniform until some sort of catastrophe chose to strike you.

You supposed that the only place you could get decent coffee at this hour was the lounge, so you grabbed your keycard and started towards the exit. For a brief second, you paused and looked back at your pistol, which you had left on your bedside table. The ghost of its barrel pressed itself against your temple, leaving you to shiver and dart out into the hall as soon as your door opened without going back to put it in your holster.

Troops were marching somewhere down the corridor, but you couldn’t see them. You turned to your left and walked in the direction of the lounge. For a moment, you looked behind you and watched Hux’s door as it disappeared around a corner. Frustration slowly awakened in you as it had yesterday. It took you until now to realize that you weren’t specifically mad at the general, even if you had snapped a little bit.

Sure, he had neglected to tell you that you had robbed Peavey of his job, but nothing else could possibly be his fault. He hadn’t chosen Chandrila to pick a new Director of Engineering from because he knew that all these horrible things would happen to you. Everything beyond your transport to the Finalizer was purely coincidental. Even choosing to disobey Kylo Ren was for the greater good of the galaxy. You were just upset with destiny, you supposed.

You entered the cold lounge with a frown, knowing that this was the spot where you had first had a conversation with Captain Peavey. Although you attempted to shake the thought of him off, the events from the last two days plagued your mind. You had been entirely helpless against the man, and the only thing from your training that seemed to matter was how to fire a blaster properly. Had Hux’s lessons been forgotten, or had you never learned anything at all?

Your coffee was bitter no matter how many additives you put in it. You sat down on one of the sofas before taking a massive drink. The thought occurred to you that you had never really been angry throughout your time in the military. You’d cried over the destruction of the fleet and had sulked about your leg, but you had always managed to use work as an excuse to sweep those irritated feelings under the rug. You shrugged at no one, taking another sip of your beverage.

It is human nature to feel aggression towards fate, but you would have thought it would have been more gradual, and not just a half-baked meltdown in the hallway outside the chambers of the Supreme Leader. You certainly hadn’t wished for Hux to have seen you in that state.

 _Maybe I should apologize_ , you wondered as you stared at your paper mug. _I mean… I wasn’t really yelling at_ him _yesterday, but I feel like I should say_ something _to him. He’s the one who wants me to keep my emotions in check for my own safety. I should have waited until I got back to my room._

You gripped your cup with a shaky scowl, chastising yourself for letting all this get to you so unexpectedly. You had been able to handle everything so far, so why was a stupid, _clearly_ one-sided trial against a _maniac_ the tipping point for you?

Quite hastily, you decided that you were going to pay the general a visit. You tossed back the last of your coffee before making your way out of the lounge and down to Hux’s quarters. It had been a while since you had been in there, and you could only hope that he wasn’t in a deep sleep. Of course, knowing his schedule on days like these he was probably up already in order to start the early bird shift.

The door that you had left behind minutes ago came into view again, although this time you were cautiously moving towards it instead of willingly defying it. Your boots clicked loudly as you walked through the narrow hall, making you suddenly aware of what time it was. At the end of your journey, you ended up treading on the balls of your feet in order to make the least amount of sound with your heels, which was difficult in such thick shoes.

Your partner’s room was mere inches away. It took more courage than was necessary in order to knock on his entrance. The silence was stifling, and each moment passed made you more and more anxious. Had he not heard you? What if he was fast asleep? What if he didn’t want to answer because he didn’t want to talk to you?

 _This was a bad idea_ , you scolded yourself as you whirled around. _I’ll just say something in the morning. Er…_ later _in the morning, I guess._

You weren’t quite sure where you were headed, but your first instinct was to try to pick up a shift in the command center, so you planned on going down that way. Thoroughly frazzled, you marched back down the hall.

“Oof!” you wheezed as you barreled into someone who was turning down the way you were coming from. “I’m sorry, I…” General Hux’s eyes met yours as you looked up, and your mouth slammed shut.

“It’s alright,” he mumbled. “What are you doing up this early? I figured you wanted to take the day off, so I was going to file a report for you.”

“No, I woke up a little while ago,” you replied uneasily. “You?”

“No particular reason, I just…”

“...couldn’t sleep,” you both said in unison. The corners of your mouth quirked slightly upwards, and you noticed that Hux was grinning bashfully as well. You remembered why you had wanted to see him and immediately jumped on the opportunity before he left.

“Listen, I’m sorry about what happened yesterday,” you gushed. “I wasn’t thinking, and I shouldn’t have screamed like that, I’m just…” You trailed off, rolling your wrists in a ‘you know’ type of way. The apology was more awkward than you had hoped it would be, which left the two of you standing bashfully in the silent hall.

“Wait right here,” Hux suddenly said. He walked briskly towards his room and disappeared inside. You blinked after him, stomach tying itself in knots over his reply. What did it mean? Was he upset with you after all?

Within a minute, the door opened again and the general stepped out with his personal datapad in hand. He beckoned you — without any sign of emotion — to follow him. You fell into step beside him, trying to look as stoic as he did, like the gesture could somehow help your reconciliation.

“I’ve been saving this for a while, now,” Armitage finally spoke. You picked up on the warmth in his tone, which allowed you to slightly relax as you continued along. The commander handed you his datapad, and you began to read over the segment of the document that he had scrolled down to.

**This proposal, presented to Supreme Leader Kylo Ren on Benduday the 26th, contains plans for a new military training and command center as well as the political hub for the First Order. This building will be named (and referred to in the rest of this document as) “Alpha Point” and will serve as the main base of operations for the entirety of the First Order.**

“Wow,” you said as you raised your brows. You scrolled down, finding pages upon pages regarding these files, even a rough sketch of the complex. “When did you come up with all this?”

“Ever since you woke up in the medical ward, I’ve been working on it when I have the time,” he replied. There was a slight hint of pride in his voice. He took the datapad back for a moment and accessed a specific page before handing it back to you.

“Read this part,” he instructed you. You detected enthusiasm within him, like he was hiding some big secret. The two of you drifted around a corner as you read the passage he had indicated.

**Land grants for Alpha Point have been put aside for the project, and negotiations may begin immediately with the Supreme Leader’s approval. The location of these land grants has been permitted for negotiation by Agrivon Incorporated.**

_Wait… I designed a shipping yard for Agrivon_ , you reminded yourself. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing that this corporation was situated in the Bormea sector. Specifically, they worked in the Chandrila system.

**If the plans are approved by both Agrivon Incorporated and the Supreme Leader, construction will begin in the Untaari Fields just outside of Hanna City, Chandrila.**

You clapped a hand over your mouth, muffling your gasp of surprise as you stopped in your tracks. The general put his hands behind his back, not even bothering to hold back his smile. You rapidly read through the rest of the text, barely able to resist the urge to jump up and down in a fit of joy.

**Architectural engineering will be led by the Director of Engineering of the First Order, in partnership with both Agrivon Incorporated and the Dishkesh Architectural Firm. Each wing of the project will be handled in chief by the Director, who will be privy to every change proposed by any party or made by the Supreme Leader. These changes must be subjected to examination and approval from the Director of Engineering.**

You were certain that you would faint at any moment. After a few more quick skims to make sure this was real, you turned towards your partner with pure hope and warmth.

“So, I’m guessing you aren’t mad at me?” you grinned nervously. Hux swept his hand out and beckoned you to continue moving, his brow dipping slightly as he smirked.

“If you were anyone else, I would have scolded you for shouting at a superior and leaving your duties without filing the proper paperwork,” he said. He looked up and down the halls quickly, then seeing as there was nobody around he draped his arm around your shoulders, keeping you close as you walked. He was pulling you into him, just slightly, like you would turn around and march right back to your quarters if he let go.

“But… I know what you’re going through,” he sighed. “I won’t pretend to understand your attachment to your home. I’ve led a military lifestyle ever since I was old enough to walk. You, however, you’ve got a mother. You’ve got a business back on Chandrila, and friends and family who are dying to see you return. Besides, when we’re this close to victory we need to establish a command center right away.” The two of you passed by the cafeteria, which was silent due to the early hour. You clutched onto the datapad in your arms, gaining a surge of energy just by feeling the holographic name of your home planet pressed against your chest.

“I’ve been crunching the numbers, recently. I almost threw out the whole thing when Kylo made those changes to our tactics,” the general went on uneasily. He shook his head and gave the shoulder his hand was resting on a squeeze. “I stayed up after the trial, though, after I had gotten through all my other work. I made sure everything was in order, and that the plans will fit in the budget. With what the Chandrilan government is willing to part with for us, I believe that we can eradicate the New Republic’s presence forever.”

“You think Kylo will approve all this?” you asked timidly. Despite all the blazing hope within you, this all seemed too good to be true. It was too convenient for all this to suddenly fall into place.

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” the general pressed on. “I contacted Ren and told him I had a proposal for him. The reason I’m having this meeting so early in the morning was so it would be a surprise, but I suppose it’s better if you come along. Having a Chandrilan alongside me will certainly strengthen the case.”

 _I didn’t really think I’d be going to see the Supreme Leader this early, either_ , you said internally. The twisted grin that the black-cloaked man had given you at the end of the trial yesterday was enough to make you not exactly cheerful to see him.

“There’s no knowing for certain whether or not he’ll approve, but he’s got a grudge against that planet. There is no doubt in my mind that he’ll want to establish a base somewhere less frigid, anyway,” Hux assured you with a small nod. He removed his arm from over your shoulders as the pair of you rounded the final corner of your journey. The golden threshold that you had crossed multiple times yesterday now loomed before you. You could almost hear Captain Peavey’s manic shouts behind the doors.

The scarlet guards remained completely still as you approached, and the entrance clicked before the two of you had even made it to the doors. The massive panels swept inward, and to your surprise, there was no evidence of the trial that had just taken place less than a day ago. The seats had disappeared and the stands were nowhere in sight. A ghostly presence seemed to hang over you, though, like the tension had never quite left the space even though all the furniture was gone.

“General Hux,” Kylo called from his throne. His tone was entirely flat, just as it had been at the start of the court proceedings. The moment that you stepped up beside your partner and gave him his datapad back, however, his entire demeanor shifted. His shoulders moved back and his brows lifted in slight surprise. It was clear that he was hiding a smile because you noticed the sudden twinkling of his eyes.

 _“And_ the Director of Engineering?” the man asked rhetorically. “What, is there some sort of evidence that you still need to present to me? The general said that this was an urgent matter.” The Supreme Leader beckoned you into the chamber, and the doors shut behind you as you inched towards him. The windows were completely dark due to the hour, so the room seemed much more golden in hue because of the lack of natural light.

“On the contrary, I have a proposal for a new building,” Hux cut in. “I brought the Director with me in order to elaborate on the details of the plan, and the possible benefits.” Kylo miraculously appeared to be interested, for having already gone through a day filled with the business of the trial. You wondered what kind of sleep schedule he had, although you assumed it was like the general’s in that he only slept when he felt the need to.

“You aren’t seriously considering making this ice rock our command planet, are you?” Ren grumbled. He was obviously just as annoyed with the frigid location as everyone else.

“No,” the commander immediately replied as if he were trying to forget that they were on Hays Minor in the first place. “I propose we take our forces somewhere that could use a stronger First Order political presence: Chandrila.”

“Chandrila,” Kylo repeated slowly. He tipped his chin up in thought, even furrowing his brows as he considered the planet. “That is where I was born.” His gaze then moved down to you, making you a little unnerved as his eyes seemed to look straight through your body. An odd chilling sensation traversed each of your nerves. It was entirely unpleasant and it left you with a slightly queasy feeling once you were released.

“And, if I am correct, that is where you have lived for your whole life,” he aimed the statement at you. You could only guess that he knew that because of the strange rush that had entered your body when he looked at you, which you inferred was him using the Force to read your mind.

“Tell me, Director. What is your opinion on this?” You chastised yourself for not coming up with any responses sooner, since you had been so caught up in the thought of possibly going home.

“Well… I think this base is necessary,” you nodded, somewhat believing your own words. “We’ve been so busy trying to get new recruits that we’ve almost completely lost touch with our allies. The First Order needs to keep up its diplomatic ties as well as its numbers, so establishing this base will be a huge step forward in both areas.” You were flying by the seat of your pants, but it appeared that you had left a good enough impression for the Supreme Leader to take you seriously. The former Knight of Ren shifted so that he was perfectly symmetrical, with only his long, unkempt hair and his scar to keep him unbalanced.

“Show me,” he ordered with a flick of his head. A small marble podium rose from the floor before the dais, right between the spaces where the prosecution and defense tables had been situated. Armitage stepped forward and set the datapad on top, which set off a chain of blue lights that travelled from the place where the device sat, down the sides of the pedestal, through the lines between the tiles on the floor, then up the walls to where the sources of the holograms from the trial presumably came from. The documents sprang to life in front of the Supreme Leader, who scrolled through each of the ghostly pages with an unreadable expression.

“Impressive,” nodded Kylo. “You know as well as I that Hays Minor isn’t ideal for our purposes. Although, I would like to know why you chose Chandrila, of all places.”

“It will be a tactical spot as well as practical,” Hux replied coolly. He tapped something on the screen of his device and a file on the planet in question bloomed in the air. “Firstly, Chandrila is an agricultural planet as much as it is a central hub for galactic politics. We can supply our troops easily with rations and the government will be at an arm’s length.” Ren scrolled down to the main proposal for all of the building’s possible accommodations. He seemed particularly interested in a certain topic, as he then moved down to the segment labeled ‘Leadership Quarters and Training Decks’.

“And this all fits in our current plans?” the Supreme Leader inquired, almost suspiciously. Hux’s hands tightened into fists as he maintained composure in his expression.

“Yes sir, everything is within budget and will not distract from our immediate efforts,” the general affirmed. You knew that he was technically correct. The plans would not be interrupted, as far as Kylo knew. The reconstruction strategy that Armitage had put in place instead of Ren’s overzealous manhunt most likely perfectly accommodated the construction of this base.

Finally, the cloaked leader adjusted his posture so that he was leaning to one side of his throne. The relaxed demeanor of his position put you and your partner at ease.

“I want to start right away,” Kylo announced as he looked down at the two of you. “I’ll have these proposals signed and returned to you, General. You may go.” With the short meeting adjourned, the commander dipped his head briskly — as if the subservient action caused him physical pain — and grabbed his datapad from off the stand. The documents continued to hover in the air, transmitted from the device to whatever computing system seemed to be placed within the very structure of the chamber. You moved to follow the general, not just satisfied but giddy to begin this project.

“Not you, Director.” The echo of Ren’s voice startled you, and you struggled to keep your outward emotions in check as you turned to face him. Hux whirled around and opened his mouth, but Kylo interrupted him before he could speak.

“There are things that you and I must discuss alone,” he seemed to justify himself. “You may go, General.” At the repetition of the Supreme Leader’s words, Armitage took one nervous glance at you before continuing his departure.

“Director.” The simple title felt wrong on his lips. You cautiously stepped towards the podium, which was now slowly retracting back into the floor. “You look tired.”

“Yessir— I mean, I apologize. I, um, slept for much longer than I should have,” you tried to form a cohesive sentence. The man on the throne didn’t even regard your stumbling words, but he studied you with intent. Behind those murky eyes of his, you could tell that some sort of impish thoughts were dancing around. At that moment he looked like a child playing dejarik, analyzing you as some sort of board in need of conquering. You were unsettled by that shadowed gaze of his.

“How odd that the general would choose Chandrila,” he seemed to think aloud. “I would have assumed he would choose somewhere a little more familiar, like Arkanis or Vardos. But instead, he chose Chandrila, the home planet of his most trusted assistant.” His phrasing seemed to take the form of an invisible serpent, slithering around you and adding to the tense atmosphere.

“I want a few answers from you, Director,” he finally addressed you, turning his head languidly to one side as he watched you from the corner of his eye. You felt like a small, cornered piece of prey compared to his falcon-like visage. “What is your personal relationship with the General?”

Despite your training, you spluttered and took a step backward, feeling your weight shift as if you had just put your heel on the edge of a cliff. Kylo’s eyes never left your form, watching from his perch as you struggled to come up with an answer.

“I’m his assistant, so we… Naturally, we work well together, and we’ve become much closer during my time in the First Order,” you responded sheepishly.

“I mean _outside_ of work,” Kylo rolled his eyes. Your lips pursed as though you had just eaten a lemon. Surely, the general would never want you to reveal your romantic connection to him, especially not to his worst enemy. However, after what you had seen of the Supreme Leader’s temper combined with his powers, you felt more inclined to be truthful.

“The General and I are well acquainted,” you mumbled, trying to remain jovial. “I’ve become his confidant, I suppose.” Kylo suddenly stood, startling you as you dipped your head in possible apology. Your heart pounded as you clasped your hands nervously in front of you.

“You are afraid of me,” the man said offhandedly as he began to walk off the dais. You had no idea how to reply to the subject change, so you waited, slightly more put off than before his statement, for him to pass by. He did not stand in front of you, rather beside you, staying completely silent and still until you turned your face towards him. His expression was contemplative but stern, the jagged edges of his scar outlining dimmed eyes that looked towards an unseeable horizon.

“I—“

“After the captain’s outburst at the trial, yesterday, I cleared the room entirely and spoke to him alone,” he stopped you before you could say anything, once more moving on to a different topic. “He has a hunch, about you.”

“What do you mean a…” you trailed off to avoid being interrupted again. Ren squared his shoulders and turned his face, finally looking you in the eye. He was a lot shorter when he was on the same level as you, only a little bit taller than Hux. He seemed a lot more human now that he was no longer sitting on that throne.

“Captain Peavey was under the impression that you and Hux are currently in a relationship,” he bluntly stated. You kept yourself as neutral as possible, trying hard not to move any of your facial features in fear of giving something away. A gloved hand landed on your shoulder without warning. You tried to jump back, but you were held firmly in place.

“Don’t waste your efforts trying to look innocent,” Kylo warned, freezing you in place with his words. “I already know it’s true. I can see…” His hand lifted from your shoulder only to hover near your temple. The action seemed to send a wave of energy through you, enough to give you a rushing headache as something seemed to dig up every memory of Armitage from within you.

“...everything,” he concluded, relaxing his fingers. The sensation left your body, leaving adrenaline in your veins and a dull throbbing in your head as you dropped to your knees. You hadn’t even noticed that you had been standing on your toes until you fell.

 _The Force_ , you said to yourself, labeling the powerful surge that you had just experienced.

“I’ve seen it within him, as well,” Kylo scoffed. He began to pace around you in a large circle that spanned the marble floor. “How strange to think that even a man as cruel as he is can find love.” He pushed out that last word like it was poisonous, biting into it with hatred.

 _He says that like he’s never experienced love_ , you noted internally. In an instant, Kylo whirled around and snarled at you, causing a massive push to knock you clean onto your back. The Force pressed you into the stone with enough power to knock the wind out of you. When you were released again, you took gulping breaths as tears began to form at the corners of your vision.

“I can read your thoughts!” barked the Supreme Leader. “Don’t patronize me with your insipid ideas!”

“I’m… sorry!” you cried out, hiccuping as you continued to fight to regain stability. Hoping to protect yourself, your arms and legs curled up into the fetal position as your eyes screwed shut. You struggled for air, begging him in your mind to spare your life. From what you had seen of him, you expected for him to lash at you with his lightsaber by now. However, Kylo seemed to wait patiently for you to sit up again once your respiration was balanced again. Although he was terrifying enough while he was directly attacking you, it was even more intimidating to see him suddenly go from being in a blind rage to perfectly still and silent.

“You have every right to be afraid of me,” the man spoke once more. “I know what I can do when I am angered.” His tone had gone soft again, although it didn’t do much to set you at ease. Your head was still spinning from the mental invasion and the impact from the floor, only adding to your fear.

“My position as Supreme Leader has given me ample time for meditation,” Kylo explained. “I understand my temper makes me dangerous, but a leader must be dangerous if they wish to remain in power.” He reached out and offered his hand to you. With trembling fingers and only half trusting him, you took his offer and allowed him to help you stand.

“Thanks,” you murmured. For a fraction of a second, he tightened his grip on you, then he let you go completely and shot you a befuddled yet analyzing look.

“It has to be you,” he said unexpectedly. Your brow quirked in confusion as you tried to maintain a soldier’s stance. “You have to be what has changed him.”

“What?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself. “You mean General Hux, my lord?” Ren nodded to you as he began to pace again.

“He’s different,” the Supreme Leader seemed to notice out loud. “I’m sure you’ve seen it. He has become quieter, less willing to push back against me at every turn.”

 _Is that good?_ you asked yourself. _I know he’s different because he’s definitely changed since our first conversation in the Finalizer lounge._

Something clicked, and as memories patched themselves together into a quilt of observations, you began to realize what Kylo meant. Hux had certainly become less bitter towards the former Knight, having spent much of his time training and working with you. It seemed to you as though he had come to accept that Ren was going to be his superior and that it was up to him as the general to take care of his forces to the best of his ability. If he didn’t, Kylo could destroy everything that had been established by the First Order.

“I think he’s got a lot on his plate,” you quietly replied, trying to find a way to explain his change in character without revealing how he had disobeyed Kylo. “He’s been trying to rebuild the entire fleet and train a bunch of soldiers to fill it up again. I don’t think he’s had a good night’s sleep in a long time.” You looked to the Supreme Leader for some sign of approval, or even just recognition that he had heard you as he continued to walk solemnly around the chamber. His eyes seemed to stare past you instead of at you, like you weren’t even there.

“He loves you, doesn’t he?” Kylo inquired in a rhetorical way. You blinked to try to clear away this dream. This _had_ to be some sort of vision. The Supreme Leader was standing right in front of you, having just slammed you into the floor with his psychic powers, and he was asking you about your love life, of all things.

“I believe so, sir,” you responded warily. Seeing as Hux wasn’t here, you had to speak for him. It was true that you presumed that he did love you, but you weren’t sure if your partner was at that level yet, if he understood what that meant. After all, apparently you were his first real relationship.

“Perhaps I should take back what I said on the Supremacy, then. I have a proposition for you,” the man said as he stopped in the center of the floor. He slowly turned and put his hands behind his back, much like how Armitage stood when he was trying to appear authoritative.

“I want you to have these schematics done in three months,” Kylo began. “Get them done in that time, presenting your progress to me each week, and in exchange General Hux will be safe.”

“Safe from what?” you asked, instantly irked by his ‘proposition’. You were even more disturbed when he laughed. It was genuine, without any sense of dryness in it. He slowly approached you, and your first instinct was to run away from him. However, something held you in place. Perhaps it was a sense of curiosity.

“The general may have a very sharp mind, but he overlooked the fact that I can understand his intent and card through his memories on a whim,” Ren clarified with a lopsided smile. “You honestly think I don’t know that he’s been betraying me?” Your mouth hung open as you chastised yourself for not piecing that together. The cloaked figure took another step towards you, and this time you did try to run from him. You wanted to warn Armitage, to save him somehow. However, as soon as you turned and took your first step, Kylo raised his hand and rendered your entire body motionless. With a squeak of alarm, you were lifted off the ground and whirled to face the Supreme Leader once again.

“I think you are a positive influence on him. Don’t go ruining it by trying to escape from me,” Kylo tutted. You gulped, hands slightly shaky as you were brought close to him. “Let’s add a little addendum to that proposal, shall we? I want you to be my eyes and ears. Make him think I’m still oblivious, at least until you have finished the blueprints. Understand?” You nodded, only half hearing him and half agreeing out of a fear for your life. One burning question still remained, but you figured that now was not the time.

“Spit it out,” demanded Ren, obviously looking into your thoughts once more. He set you down, back to his unemotional disposition. You cleared your throat, hoping that you wouldn’t anger him with what you were about to ask.

“Well… Aren’t you mad at him?” you inquired nervously. The former Knight looked to the ground and clenched his fists, taking a deep breath before letting it out and tipping his head so that he looked down on you.

“I have excused the general from _treason_. I am feeling generous, given that none of my spies have been able to find a shred of the Resistance. They’re not only on the run, but they are clearly losing support. Therefore, the General made a wise decision in disobeying me.” It sounded like admitting that fact was tough for the ruler, and you knew that in his shoes Hux never would have allowed him to be pardoned. You thanked him internally for sparing your partner.

“Does that mean you’re thankful for the way he’s handling the reconstruction?” you followed up, trying to pry more assurances from him to set you at ease.

“That is none of your concern,” he dismissed your query as he made his way back towards the dais. You watched as he stepped up onto the marble, taking note of his surprisingly fluid movements. It seemed as though his position had given him a more regal air. You weren’t sure if it fit him. Kylo waved you off, sitting down on his throne and transforming back into his falcon-like stance.

“Go,” he ordered dispassionately. You dipped your head to him, then turned on your heel. “Director…” You turned your face to look over your shoulder, meeting his steely gaze. He clutched the sides of his stone chair, giving you the impression that he had one last thing to say to you.

“I won’t excuse him again,” he growled. Mouth dry and freshly disquieted, you bowed your head swiftly before scurrying through the golden doors.


End file.
